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CLOSING SCENES IN THE LIEE OE 

Rey. George B, Little. 



" Since thou hast died. — the pure, the just, - 
I take my homeward way in trust." 

Lyra Germanica. 



B S T X : 



PUBLISHED BY THE MASS. SABBATH SCHOOL SOCIETY, 

X o . 13 Corn hill. 
1865. 









Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by 

M. H. SARGENT, Treasurer of the Mass. S. S. Society, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



Xj 30 V 



(EamfcritJjje $iress. 



CO^TE^TS. 



Introductory Sketch of Mr. Little ... 5 
His Treatment of Sceptical Errors ... 29 
His Interest in National Affairs . . . .59 
Close of his Ministry in Bangor . . . 85 
Last Year at West Newtom . . . . . 96 
Voyage to France, and Return .... 139 

His Love of Music 175 

Last Weeks of his Life 183 

Funeral Services 258 

(3) 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 



George Barker Little was born in 
Castine, Maine, December 21, 1821. 
He was the youngest of the ten children 
of Otis and Dorothy P. Little. 

His first instruction was received at 
the school in his native town, where for 
a time he was taught by one who, in 
after years, became a member of his con- 
gregation at Bangor, and who recalls 
with pleasure his proficiency and promise. 

Mr. Little was in boyhood the subject 
of deep religious impressions. He was 
much affected by the death of two older 
brothers. Charles, a youth of eighteen 



6 MEMORIAL. 

years, was lost overboard in March, 1828, 
on the passage from New Orleans to 
Liverpool, — his first voyage. The other, 
William Avery Little, when about to 
enter the medical profession, was arrested 
by repeated attacks of hemorrhage from 
the lungs. After a lonely exile in Cuba, 
he came home to die. His end was has- 
tened by the sudden removal of Charles. 
He died in August, the same year, at 
the age of twenty-two, with a meek and 
trembling hope of salvation through the 
Redeemer. Before his death, he took 
the hand of his brother George, and be- 
sought him to prepare for heaven. 

A few years after these bereavements, 
Mr. Little became a Christian. His re- 
ligious change had a great influence in 
persuading his father to embrace evangel- 
ical views. Both the father and son 
made their profession of religion at Cas- 
tine, on the same day, March 20, 1836 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 7 

Having pursued his academical course 
at Leicester, Mass.. Mr. Little entered 
Bowdoin College in September, 1839, 
and was graduated in 1843. 

Rev. G. M. Adams, of Conway, Mass., 
who was one of his companions at Cas- 
tine, as well as a friend in college and 
in later years, writes as follows : — 

" My recollections of Mr. Little, from 
early youth, are of one who in all circles 
drew to himself the admiration and af- 
fection of his associates. In college he 
was the pride and favorite of his class. 
No one envied him the honors which 
easily flowed to him. His scholarship 
was thorough and accurate. He exhib- 
ited special fondness for classical, indeed 
for all linguistic studies, which he mas- 
tered with unusual ease. His rare felic- 
ity in the use of language, and the fasci- 
nating conversational power, with which 
the friends of his later years are familiar, 
were indicated indeed from the first, but 



8 MEMORIAL. 

were largely developed by these careful 
studies. He did not relinquish such pur- 
suits after entering upon professional 
life. As long as the state of his health 
permitted, he was in the habit of reading 
the classical authors as a diversion." 

Rev. J. O. Means, of Roxbury, Mass., 
also a friend and classmate, says : — 

" From first to last, his religious char- 
acter was decided. He enjoyed the great 
advantage of having for a long time 
aimed to enter the Christian ministry. 
After leaving college, Mr. Little taught 
in a classical school at Alexandria, Va. 
Here he translated and analyzed the 
most celebrated discourses of the French 
preachers. He made abstracts from 
them, and thus gained somewhat of the 
vivacity which characterized his own ser- 
mons. 

" He entered the Theological Institu- 
tion at Andover in 1846, and left it in 
1849. These three years of his seminary 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 9 

life were the happiest which he had ever 
passed. They were also the most fruit- 
ful of good." 

In his letter, already quoted, Mr. Adams 
says : — 

" Mr. Little shunned rather than sought 
prominence in the public eye. His es- 
timate of his own gifts and attainments 
was very modest. Looking forward to 
the ministry, he said, in a familiar letter : 
6 1 trust my prevailing and supreme desire 
is, to live and act where I can accomplish 
the most for God and the church. But I 
have a great horror of getting into some 
place not mine ; and it seems to me 
that some retired situation, like what I 
have alluded to, would most accord with 
both my taste and powers.' " 

On hearing of his decease, Rev. Pro- 
fessor Putnam, of Dartmouth College, 
who was in the same class with Mr. 



10 MEMORIAL. 

Little at Andover, published the follow- 
ing record : — 

" Mr. Little was a man of refined and 
delicate culture, and a most tasteful and 
appreciating scholarship. Sensitive and 
sympathetic in his nature, he drew his 
friends closely to him, and was affec- 
tionately admired and loved as a pastor. 
He was by temperament somewhat re- 
served ; sometimes self-distrustful ; some- 
times, especially under the pressure of 
ill health, despondent; ever shrinking in- 
stinctively from the harsh contact of 
colder and more obtrusive natures. Yet 
he was thoroughly earnest and resolute 
in the expression of his cherished beliefs, 
and took strong hold of all who came 
within his circle by the intellectual 
warmth and vitality of his discourse and 
his quiet yet fine enthusiasm. No one 
who has known him in private, or heard 
him in public, can forget the subdued 
intensity with which he would emphasize, 
in rapid and compressed and eager utter- 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 11 

ance, the truths he loved and wanted to 
enforce, yet always with a most genial 
and loving appreciation of all that was 
heartily said or felt by others. 

" Not a few must be the minds that 
he has instructed and impressed and 
quickened by his rich and various 
thought; not a few the hearts around 
which he has twined himself, and drawn 
them toward, or won them into, the 
Christian life. His seminary classmates 
will hear with sadness of the early death 
of one whom they loved and honored 
as the choicest of their number. Those 
among them who used to follow his an- 
imating lead in the chapel choir, will 
mourn that his voice is henceforth silent 
here, though only to 

4 Sing more sweet, more loud/ 

in that better service of the upper tem- 
ple." 

Professor Park, one of his teachers at 
Andover, says : — 



12 MEMORIAL. 

"I first saw Mr. Little in Oct., 1846, 
at Belfast, Me. I was at once inter- 
ested in his modest address and de- 
meanor. Six weeks afterward I exam- 
ined him for admission to the Seminary, 
and was delighted with the precise words 
which he used in translating a few pas- 
sages of Virgil and Cicero. At all his 
subsequent recitations he exhibited the 
truth in a definite outline. Nor was 
he less comprehensive than exact. His 
aim was to compass the entire science 
of theology, and to free himself from all 
narrow and narrowing prejudice. I feel 
grateful at every remembrance of his la- 
borious researches, and of the stimulus 
which his example gave to his associates 
in study. He enunciated his ideas with 
rare distinctness, and gave a fine spec- 
imen of that elocution which Dr. Porter 
loved to commend, and which consists 
in sending out every word as if it were 
a ball of bright silver. When he closed 
his theological course, I was affected by 
the lowly estimate which he placed upon 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 13 

his past attainments, and by the humble 
words which he uttered in view of his 
future progress. Many other men, with 
his acquisitions, would have been too 
self-confident ; he might, perhaps, have 
enjoyed a longer life if he had not been 
too self-distrustful." 

Rev. Dr. Dwight of Portland, Me., has 
written : — 

" I first saw Mr. Little when he was 
graduated at Bowdoin, and heard him 
deliver an oration marked by his vigor 
of thought and fine taste in composition. 
When he was completing his course at 
Andover, I saw and heard him again, 
and to the same advantage. Afterward 
I became personally acquainted with him, 
and have been ever forming the same 
high estimate of him as from the begin- 
ning, as of one whom the world could 
not willingly part with." 

September 18, 1850, Mr. Little married 



14 MEMORIAL. 

Sarah Edwards, daughter of the late 
Rev. Eli as Cornelius. In the preceding 
year, 1849, October 11, he had been or- 
dained pastor of the First Congrega- 
tional Church in Bangor, Me. 

Of his ministerial life in that city, 
Rev. S. L. Caldwell, who was then pas- 
tor of the First Baptist Church in the 
same place, writes : — 

" His ministry in Bangor was well 
known to me. I welcomed its begin- 
ning, and, by the privilege of per- 
sonal friendship rather than of eccle- 
siastical connection, was intrusted with 
the unwelcome announcement, to a 
sorrowing people, of its close. It was 
a ministry necessarily crippled, as it 
was shortened, by the infirmities of the 
body ; but it was sustained to the end 
with power, with usefulness, with the 
growing and admiring love of his people. 
Mr. Little was a scholar in tastes and 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 15 

in attainments. He impressed a person, 
or a congregation, at once, as a culti- 
vated man ; and yet his culture did not 
overlay and dull his native sharpness. 
His mind was singularly keen, elastic, 
vigorous. He carried himself in the pul- 
pit and in all public places with ease 
and self-possession, and delivered him- 
self with a graceful and peculiarly 
awakening oratory. His preaching, while 
sufficiently doctrinal and practical, shot 
out into quickening allusions and illus- 
trations on every side. 

" There was a vast affection in the man, 
unknown to many, but which drew back 
upon himself attachments of great ardor. 
He died laden with unusual love. He 
was generous. His aptness and sharp- 
ness of wit was tempered by a genial 
spirit, which made him a most stimulat- 
ing and enjoyable companion. He was 
of a most positive character . In his 
convictions he was earnest and strong, 
and they imparted strength and consist- 
ency to his piety. That asserted itself 



16 MEMORIAL. 

always, and in his last days lifted his 
soul ' quite to the verge of heaven.' " 

Mr. Adams thus concludes his letter 
respecting Mr. Little : — 

" I find special pleasure in recalling 
the last considerable interview I enjoyed 
with him. It was between one and two 
years before his death. We spent a 
week or more together in the rough life 
of the backwoods of New York. The 
Sabbath found us at an isolated public- 
house, the rendezvous of the hunters and 
boatmen of the vicinity. Toward night, 
the household, to the number of twenty 
or thirty, came together, and Mr. Little 
spoke to them of the Saviour, and their 
personal need of an interest in his 
atoning death. I thought I had known 
Mr. Little before. But in the melting 
earnestness and directness of his appeal 
to those rough men, I gained a deeper 
respect, both for the versatility of his 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 17 

mind and the heartiness of his love to 
Christ. 

" Those who knew Mr. Little best, see 
most reason to mourn his early death. 
Up to the time when disease interrupted 
his plans, he had been steadily growing 
in effectiveness as a Christian minister. 
He had made himself familiar with what 
is most valuable in English, French, and 
German literature. His style, always 
genial and graphic, had gained terseness 
and logical force in the growing earnest- 
ness of his ministerial life. Experience 
had deepened his attachment to the vital 
truths of the Christian faith ; the doctrine 
of the Atonement, especially, he held 
with unusual fervor of confidence. That 
rare and graceful culture, that tempered 
keenness and polish of mind and manner, 
the quick discernment both of truth and 
of character, the refined taste, the delicate 
sympathy, the winning address, we were 
hoping the Master had prepared for ser- 
vices yet more eminent than any our 
friend had already fulfilled. He was fit- 



18 MEMOKIAL. 

ted, as few men in the church are fitted, 
to win persons of liberal culture to his 
own clear and joyful views of Christ, 
But there was a plan more comprehen- 
sive than ours. ' Even so, Father, for so 
it seemed good in thy sight.' " 

Rev. Professor D. S. Talcott, of Ban- 
gor Theological Seminary, writes : — 

" There was in him a frankness of de- 
meanor which at once awakened interest 
and inspired confidence. His heart 
looked out of his eyes, and the most or- 
dinary discernment might read there the 
absence of whatever is base and selfish, 
and the habitual prevalence of sympathies 
deep, ardent, and comprehensive. A 
very brief intercourse with him was suf- 
ficient to disclose an imagination of un- 
usual brilliancy and suggestiveness ; an 
intellect clear, vigorous, penetrating, alert ; 
a delicate and highly cultivated taste ; 
the possession and command of a wide 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 19 

extent of knowledge, and a rare capacity 

for conveying it For those 

who were upon terms of intimacy with 
him, to express themselves without re- 
serve respecting his character as a friend, 
would be to incur the suspicion that they 
were using the language of extravagant 
panegyric. There are not a few who 
can say that he had their heartiest trust, 
and that their trust in him was never 
disappointed. There are not a few who 
will always esteem it a ground of thank- 
fulness to have been permitted to enjoy 
his friendship, who will carry to the 
grave among their choicest mental treas- 
ures the remembrance of the hours they 
spent in his society, and to whom it is 
among the attractions of the heavenly 
world that they hope to be reunited with 
him there. 

" Nowhere did Mr. Little's religious char- 
acler appear to so much advantage as in 
the most private and confidential inter- 
course, where he felt that he could freely 
unbosom himself without the least ap- 



20 MEMORIAL. 

pearance of display. His intense abhor- 
rence of everything of this sort, especially 
in regard to one's own religious emotions, 
appeared to lay him under a restraint, 
which could hardly have been otherwise 
than painful to one who was so ardent 
in his feelings, and who was ordinarily 
so open in the expression of them. In 
this way there is reason to believe that 
many whose acquaintance with him was 
only an external one, were led to regard 
his piety as marked by an undue pre- 
dominance of the intellectual element 
over the emotional. But there were oc- 
casions when all reserve was banished, 
when the full heart demanded the relief 
of utterance, and the ear of private 
friendship was thrilled by outbursts of 
grateful and adoring love to the Redeem- 
er, which might well have sprung from 
the rapt and fervid spirit of a Kempis or 

Bernard 

" Without ever appearing to make the 
study of individual men a matter of par- 
ticular attention, Mr. Little was well 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 21 

versed in human nature. Not many of 
his age were better acquainted with man- 
kind in the gross. Not many could dis- 
tinguish more accurately, in theory, 
varieties of character, or more successful- 
ly accommodate themselves in social 
intercourse to an extensive range of 
them, without any sacrifice of individ- 
uality or compromise of principle. 

" Mr. Little was not one who had 
reason to apprehend the woe denounced 
against those of whom all men speak 
well. His advocacy of whatever he 
looked upon as the true and the right 
was open, earnest, and unyielding. 
Whatever appeared to him wrong or 
dishonorable awakened within him an 
abhorrence which he took no pains to 
conceal. He possessed, too, a power of 
sarcasm which, though wontedly kept 
under singular restraint by the force of 
that charity which hopeth and endureth 
all things, yet made itself sometimes 
felt by those who were impervious to 
every other weapon ; and it was a thing 
very likely to be remembered. 



22 MEMORIAL. 

" To all who had any degree of inti- 
mate acquaintance with Mr. Little, there 
was manifest on all occasions a profound 
dissatisfaction with his own performance 
of the duties pertaining to the sacred 

function In accounting for 

this peculiarity [whatever place may be 
given to other considerations], no small 
prominence should be assigned to the 
clearness with which the truths he dealt 
with presented themselves to his mind, 
the force with which he grasped them, 
and the vast importance with which he 
apprehended them to be invested. The 
conceptions which he formed, in earnest 
meditation upon those great themes, 
were such as even his own command 
of the resources of expression, ample 
as it appeared to be to others, utterly 
failed to do justice to. It was his to 
comprehend, as few could do, the im- 
mense disproportion there must always 
be between eternal realities and the 
most expressive forms with which they 
ever can be clothed in language. And 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 23 

it was but natural that this dispropor- 
tion should never appear to him so 
great as when he had concentrated his 
full power of thought upon the con- 
templation of a single point, and had 
then endeavored to convey to others 
the views of it which he had himself 

attained 

" The wisdom and the love, which de- 
vised and ordered all his trials, and which 
he never seemed to stand in doubt of 
here, are now fully disclosed to him in 
the light of those purposes accomplished, 
which they all along contemplated. And 
with w^hat new and strange delight may 
we imagine him to be now bearing his 
part in the work assigned to the glori- 
fied above, no longer doubtful as to the 
service which he best can render, no 
longer distrustful of his capacities, or un- 
easy under the sense of their imperfect 
action, but receiving commands directly 
from the lips of the King of saints himself, 
and hastening to fulfil them in serene 
consciousness of the unrestrained and tire- 



24 MEMORIAL. 

less exertion of an immortal vigor, with 
every affection of his being in the live- 
liest and purest exercise, and his will 
henceforth and forever fixed immutably 
in harmony with the will of the Su- 
preme." 

To illustrate the impression which Mr. 
Little made upon scholars who had not 
been acquainted with him in his early 
youth, we quote the following letter from 
Rev. Professor Harris, also of Bangor 
Seminary: — 

" My acquaintance with Mr. Little com- 
menced on my removal to this city in the 
fall of 1855. As he left us two years 
afterward, my intercourse with him was 
limited. But there was something in him 
which drew me to him at once ; and, 
short as had been our acquaintance when 
he left, I .keenly felt that I had lost 
from our circle here an endeared Mend 
and a trusted helper. 

u His mind was characterized by keen 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 25 

perception, penetration, and discrimina- 
tion. His attainments in scholarship were 
unusual ; they were especially remarka- 
ble, when it is considered that the weak- 
ness of his eyes had for years hindered, 
and at times entirely suspended, his 
studies. His scholarship procured for him 
a proposal to occupy a professorship in 
Amherst College ; but the weakness of 
his eyes compelled him to decline an 
election. As a preacher he was thought- 
ful, perspicuous, definite, and bold. Peo- 
ple knew what he meant, and knew that 
he was in earnest. His power was felt 
and acknowledged throughout the city. 
He had in a remarkable degree the love 
of his own congregation, until ill health 
obliged him to dissolve his happy con- 
nection with them, and seek a less labo- 
rious position. Their love followed him 
to the last. He is remembered by the 
population generally with high esteem. 
u I shall not attempt an analysis of 
his character. Indeed, I have never at- 
tempted to define to my own mind what 



26 MEMORIAL. 

it was in him which attracted me so strong- 
ly. All who knew him recognized warm 
and generous impulses, remarkably com- 
bined with clearness of thought, definite- 
ness, promptness, decision, and steadfast- 
ness of purpose. His domestic virtues 
made him lovely and happy at home. Wit, 
intelligence, vivacity, and sympathy made 
him genial in social intercourse. His Chris- 
tian faith and love will be manifest to all 
who read his memorial. He has gone 
before us to our Lord. May God make 
this memorial of his peaceful departure a 
comfort to the many who loved him." 

From a published letter of Rev. Profes- 
sor Shepard, of Bangor, we make the 
following extracts : — 

" Mr. Little was eight years pastor in 
this city, loved and cherished while he re- 
mained, and profoundly regretted by him 
and the people was the necessity which 
took him to another field. His removal 
from here was about three years since ; less 
than a year since the Master called him to 



INTRODUCTORY SKETCH. 27 

the higher presence and service. Mr. Little 
had all the accomplishments of the rarest 
culture ; he showed a taste of the most 
tremulous sensitiveness, and yet he was 
direct, strong, penetrating in address. His 
sermons were chaste, terse, often powerful. 
They honored the gospel, being replete 
with its truths, bearing forth to others its 
exhaustless riches ; and when he turned 
his argument against the rationalistic as- 
sailants or underminers of Christian doc- 
trines, as he sometimes did, it was with an 
exposing and even demolishing efficacy. 
His blade used in these encounters was of 
the finest metal and the keenest edge. A 
thorough German scholar, and of extensive 
German reading, when his eyes served him, 
he understood the subtleties and the falla- 
cies of these unsettling philosophies. The 
entire man in the pulpit constituted a per- 
fect congruity : the style, manner, every 
motion and look and tone thereof were in 
absolute keeping ; all concurring in the end 
he was striving to gain. It was this coa- 
lescence of quali:ies which woke the inter- 



28 MEMORIAL. 

est and deepened the impression. Sad 
the thought that we shall see him, hear 
him no more. Mr. Little's experiences and 
utterances in his sickness, and in the near 
approach of death, were such as to shed 
an added ray upon the dark and mysteri- 
ous path. He entered upon it with doubts 
and fears and misgivings. He traversed 
it, especially toward the end, with firm and 
triumphant step. He went down into the 
vale characteristically; his expressions took 
the type of his own mind and heart, — 
everything was the man lifted higher in 
Christ, and under the Providence that was 
upon him. 

" The description of a scene like that, 
where everything was so deep and fresh, so 
marked by the decisive traits of the suf- 
ferer, so savoring of the divine presence 
and support, cannot fail to be useful and 
consolatory wherever it may go. It honors 
the Master, and gives strength to the dis- 
ciples." 



35is tatinrat of Irrptirnl £rrnrs> 

It has been said of Mr. Little : — 

" For every form of doubt he had a kind 
and tender sympathy, save that form only 
which is intolerant of any exercise by 
others of a calm and reposing faith. Such 
a faith he appeared habitually to have in 
exercise himself. Having felt his way 
down to the solid foundations upon which 
the assurance of the Christian must ulti- 
mately rest, he had come to the conclusion 
that there were no difficulties in reli- 
gion to be compared with the difficulties 
of unbelief. Thus judging, and familiar 
with what the largest and most subtle in- 
tellects of all ages had done and had failed 
to do in speculating on the deep things of 
God, he occupied himself less with the 
mysteries and difficulties of religion than 
might perhaps have been expected from a 

(29) 



30 MEMOEIAL. 

disposition so inquisitive and a mental 
power so keen." 

On the same topic a friend has thus 
written : — 

" Mr. Little felt a peculiar interest in 
persons troubled with doubts and difficul- 
ties respecting the divine authority of the 
Bible and the truth of evangelical doctrines. 
This appeared in his Seminary course ; one 
of his earliest sermons, written while study- 
ing at Andover, is on ' The Importance of a 
Correct Religious Belief.' The same inter- 
est continued through his whole ministry. 
In one of his last journeys, he turned aside 
from his route and delayed a day, on pur- 
pose to have one more conversation on 
religion with a sceptical acquaintance. 
Even in his last illness he showed the 
same concern for friends who held what he 
regarded as essential errors ; and with fee- 
ble but tender tones, which showed at once 
his wasted strength and his unwasted affec- 
tion and earnestness, he endeavored to lead 
them to the truth. A little while before he 






TREATMENT OF SCEPTICAL ERRORS. 31 

died, he was conversing respecting the 
views of Theodore Parker with a young 
person whom he wished to guard against 
those errors. His eye lighted up, and he 
spoke with surprising animation and ener- 
gy. At the conclusion he spoke of Mr. 
Parker's views of Christ, and expressed his 
astonishment that a man could hold such 
opinions in fhe extremity of death. Then 
he exclaimed with tremulous tones, ' Oh, 
if it were not for Christ and him crucified, 
I am sure I do not know what I should do 
now ! ' 

" Mr. Little's own belief of evangelical 
doctrines was definite and decided, but it 
was not a cast-iron dogmatism, incapable 
of returning warmth or tenderness to the 
touch of a doubter. It was a living faith, 
which had met the wants and exigencies 
of his own soul and nourished his own 
spiritual growth, and thus had grown up 
in his own experience and become organ- 
ically incorporated into his spiritual life. 
His own vigorous belief, therefore, had 
the sensibility of life. He did not repel 



32 MEMORIAL. 

doubt as a sin. Wherever an honest de- 
sire to know the truth appeared, he felt 
compassion for the inquirer in his per- 
plexities, and with hearty sympathy strove 
to help him to see the truth which had been 
light and life to his own soul. He would 
carefully study the ground on which the 
doubt rested, and its origin, whether in 
the head or in the heart ; would ascertain 
what truths the inquirer already admit- 
ted, that they might be the stepping- 
stones of further progress ; and by conver- 
sation, by letters, by giving suitable books, 
would patiently labor on so long as any 
hope of doing good remained. His in- 
terest in studying and treating such a 
case was like that of a physician in 
studying and treating a difficult case in 
his practice. His persistence was the ex- 
pression at once of his own interest and 
sympathy, and of his confidence in the 
sincerity and honesty of the inquirer. 

" But against disbelievers, no longer in- 
quiring for truth, but in the face of light, 
diligent in undermining Christianity and in 



TREATMENT OF SCEPTICAL ERRORS. 33 

propagating infidelity, he hesitated not to 
use his keen sarcasm. So Chaucer de- 
scribes his parson: 

" * And though he holy were and virtuous, 
He was to sinful men not dispitous ; 
But if, were any person obstinate, 
What so he were of high or low estate, 
Him would he snibben l sharply for the nonce.' " 

" Mr. Little's letters on these subjects are 
mostly lost or inaccessible. A single one 
is given, from the first draft of it, written 
with a pencil and found among his papers. 
It has no date, and it is not known to 
whom it was addressed. 

" 4 From an expression occurring at the 
close of your letter, I am encouraged to 
say a few more words to you on religious 
topics. I reciprocate fully your feeling of 
sympathy w T ith all who are honestly seek- 
ing for light and truth. Even the diffi- 
culties and doubts of honest inquirers 
should be met with respect, or, at the 
very worst, with compassion. I cannot 
agree with you, however, when you in- 

i Rebuke. 
3 



34 MEMORIAL. 

timate that we are not responsible for our 
belief or our scepticism, or, as you more 
exactly say, wholly responsible. That 
we are not responsible for that organiza- 
tion which we receive at birth, and for 
many, though we are for some, of the sur- 
rounding circumstances, which with the 
organization tend, as you say, " to pro- 
duce certain results," is undeniably true. 
But are we not responsible in the matter 
of resisting or yielding to that tendency ? 
It is surely not a safe position to take, 
that we are to yield to every tendency 
which may be the product of organization 
and circumstances. To say that we are 
not responsible for our opinions and be- 
lief, and that a native tendency to infidel- 
ity is an excuse for infidelity, will cer- 
tainly prove too much ; for if this be valid 
reasoning in such a case, why not valid in 
respect to conduct and morals, and what 
shall prevent a man from urging as an ex- 
cuse for his intemperance, that he was born 
with an appetite for drink? And so in 
numerous other cases. If it be said that a 



TREATMENT OF SCEPTICAL ERRORS. 35 

man cannot believe without evidence, we 
may say in reply that this is not required. 
But let it be remembered, that the man 
just as really and inexcusably violates a 
law of his being and of reason, who with- 
holds his assent in the presence of evi- 
dence, as in refusing his assent in the 
absence of it. And let it farther be re- 
membered, that the exact point where our 
responsibility lies in regard to truth, is not 
to create evidence but to discover it. And 
sometimes, though the evidence may 
abound, we do not discover it without 
searching for it. This is God's law, or, 
if you please, Nature's law, in regard to 
gold and gems ; why should it not be in 
regard to truth ? If, therefore, a man shall 
miss of any important truth because he 
wilfully neglects to search for it with 
proper diligence and a right spirit, he 
cannot justly be held excused. And if it 
be a truth of morals and religion, and con- 
nected as most truth is with conduct, the 
results of his mistake may be disastrous to 
himself and to others. It is only on this 



36 MEMORIAL. 

principle that we can rightly judge of 
conscientious errors. The fault of such 
errors lies not in following conscience, not 
in acting — to use words of your own 
— according to our sense of right and 
wrong, but in not using all the means in 
our power to have an enlightened and true 
conscience, and an accurate sense of right 
and wrong. It was on this principle that 
the apostle Paul censured himself for per- 
secuting the Christian church, though he 
did it conscientiously. It is on the same 
principle that papal and other persecutions 
are to be condemned. Conscience is in- 
deed our guide ; but she will guide us ac- 
cording to the light she has, and will judge 
according to the evidence. It is our busi- 
ness to supply the evidence and let in the 
light. 

u i This leads me to speak of the Bible as 
the great repository of knowledge and light 
in religion. Pardon me for expressing my 
surprise and regret that you say nothing of 
it in your letter. In my view, an inquirer 
after religious truth who does not give his 



TREATMENT OF SCEPTICAL ERRORS. 37 

days and nights to a reverent and childlike 
study of the Bible, is like a mariner, in mid- 
ocean, who would find his way without 
chart or compass. It is not a blind, tradi- 
tional reverence for a mere book, that I am 
recommending ; it is reverence for that 
which can, I fully believe, substantiate its 
claims to be a divine record. The Bible 
shrinks not from the severest scrutiny. I 
commend it not to your superstitious ven- 
eration, but to your reason as well as to 
your heart. From its wonderful history, as 
also from its contents, the evidence that 
it is the divine revelation, is so over- 
whelming that nothing is more irration- 
al than to reject or neglect it. No other 
book and no other system can furnish 
such resources of comfort, or supply such 
incentives to a Christian life. It is, indeed, 
a contradiction to talk of a Christian life 
apart from Christ ; and there is no Christ 
apart from the Christ of the New Testa- 
ment. Study then, I beg of you, the New 
Testament. It is not the doctrine of any 
established church that I commend to 



38 MEMORIAL. 

you, but Christ and his gospel. He is the 
only Way, the only Truth, the only Life. 
May he become your Guide, your Friend, 
your Saviour." 

" Mr. Little was not in the habit of 
preaching on the ' Evidences of Christiani- 
ty.' He has not left one sermon formally 
proving the divine authority of the Bible. 
He aimed rather at the clear and forcible 
presentation of the realities of the spiritual 
world, the facts of God's government and 
redemption, believing that there is that in 
man's moral and spiritual being which 
would respond to them. He aimed to 
quicken men to the sense of spiritual needs, 
to arouse the conscience, to touch the 
heart, knowing that ' with the heart man 
believeth unto rightousness.' Argument 
addressed to the intellect alone cannot give 
the evidences of Christianity in their full 
force. But he was in the habit of direct- 
ing attention to the confirmation of Chris- 
tianity which incidentally opened from the 
discussion of any topic. He was not in 



TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY DESIRABLE. 39 

the habit of formally refuting infidel ob- 
jections. But he unsparingly exposed the 
covert infidelity of the day in its practical 
working, as it appeared in popular litera- 
ture, and as, in political theories, in social 
reforms and philanthropic enterprises, it 
penetrated the thinking of the people with- 
out being recognized in its true character." 

A few extracts are given from Mr. Lit- 
tle's sermons on these topics : — 

THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY DESIRABLE. 

" Of all men in the world, the sceptic 
should be troubled, anxious and diligent. 
He should go to an examination of the 
Bible with a serious desire that it may 
prove true. It is altogether for his interest, 
and the best interest of his friends and of 
the race, that it may be proved true. For 
it is the only source of light and encour- 
agement and hope to a sinful world. Woe 
to the world, if it be found false ! We do 
not need the Bible to prove that men are 
sinners, and therefore under a curse ; but 



40 MEMORIAL. 

we need the Bible to declare to us definite- 
ly how we may be cleansed from sin and 
escape the curse. We do not need the 
Bible to prove the existence of hell, — for 
the evidence of that we may gain from our 
own consciousness ; but we do need that 
book to reveal to us a heaven, and how 
we may reach it. Scepticism, therefore, 
in reference to the truth of the Bible, will 
be, to an honest man, one of the worst ca- 
lamities that can befall him. While he 
doubts in so important a matter, he cannot 
remain easy and satisfied. A book con- 
taining the only answer to questions relat- 
ing so intimately to his eternal life, he will 
ardently desire to find worthy of his cordial 
belief. He will, therefore, be willing to 
turn his eyes toward the broad light of 
positive testimony. He will not choose to 
doubt ; least of all will he take pleasure in 
doubting, and in gloating over the difficul- 
ties and apparent discrepancies of Scrip- 
ture, as some sceptics do. The state of 
mind that has not gone beyond doubting, 
that can do no more than state objections 



TRUTHS OF CHRISTIANITY DESIRABLE. 41 

and suggest difficulties, is the very last to 
afford satisfaction. Until a man can say 
honestly and boldly, that he knows the Bible 
to be a collection of fables, and the Chris- 
tian religion a delusion, and the prayers and 
struggles of Christians to be time and labor 
lost, — until then he cannot rationally take 
a release from solicitude in the matter. 
If he cannot say this, he has no excuse 
for apathy, and, above all, none for flippan- 
cy and trifling." 

THE BIBLE NOT THE SOURCE OF RELIGIOUS 
FEARS. 

After quoting from the Bible several pas- 
sages declaring the terribleness of God to 
sinners, he says : — 

. • . . " I will not pronounce on the 
precise meaning of these passages. Exer- 
cise your critical ingenuity on them as you 
please. Prune them, dilute them, restrict 
their application, call them Jewish, figura- 
tive, hyperbolical, — do what you will with 
them, — but after you have done all, tell 



42 MEMORIAL. 

me if they are not terrible. Tell me if it is 
weakness to be afraid of the displeasure of 
such a God, and to tremble at the thought 
of disobeying him. 

" But whether it is considered a weak- 
ness or not, the fact remains the same, — 
this fear does exist. Infidel preachers try 
to laugh men out of it ; but it is not so 
easily laid to rest. You may rail at it, 
and call it puerile, mean, cowardly, pusil- 
lanimous ; you may argue that it ought 
not to exist, that it shall not and does not 
exist. But there it is. Nor is it so easily 
quieted, as some suppose, by a change of 
religious views. It is found to vex the 
souls of men who have never been guilty 
of a leaning toward Calvinism. You 
may think it somehow connected with the 
Bible ; and that, if you can break loose 
from the tyranny of that book, all will be 
well. But I fear that, if you try the exper- 
iment, you will not succeed in quelling all 
ghostly fears and securing an unruffled 
bosom. Go visit those countries where 
the Bible has never intruded ; and the 



THE SOURCE OF RELIGIOUS FEARS. 43 

reeking altars, the bloody rites, the foul 
superstitions will convince you that relig- 
ious terrors, the dread of a hereafter, the 
fear of a Divinity, are not created by the 
Bible. Happy will you be, if convinced by 
this time that the Bible reveals the method 
of emancipation from these fears. 

" The fear, then, is universal. And the 
ground of it is, that God has put within 
the breast of every man a witness for him- 
self, which will, in the long run, show itself 
stronger than scepticism, and the avenger 
of faith. This faculty has a marvellous 
power of bringing face to face the two 
ideas of sin and accountability, the con- 
fronting of which is sure to produce dis- 
turbance in the guilty soul. Thus, so long 
as conscience lives in the bosom of a sin- 
ner, he is compelled to have some notion 
of an overruling Power that will reckon 
with him for his sins. It is wonderful 
that these two things, conscience and sin, 
should live together. Yet here they are, 
coexisting in the same breast, and appar- 
ently to exist there forever, and without an 



44 MEMORIAL. 

adjustment ; for man cannot rid himself 
of his conscience on the one hand, nor of 
his guilt on the other. The judge is seat- 
ed forever on the throne ; the prisoner is 
forever at the bar ; and there is no end of 
the assize. You do not escape this by- 
rejecting any particular system of Chris- 
tian doctrine, nor by rejecting the Bible 
itself. To flee from the Bible is to fall 
into the arms of natural religion. You do 
not escape the consciousness of guilt, nor 
remove God from the throne of right- 
eous government. You gain* nothing but 
vagueness and uncertainty, — a spectral 
uncertainty, which will bring your soul 
into captivity to a fear less intelligent, but 
not less distressing. Besides, — and this 
is the gloomiest fact of all, — by forsaking 
the Bible, you turn your back on the only 
door of escape from fear, and reject the 
only antidote and remedy for sin." 

HUMAN RIGHTS. 

, . . . " It is not what man is, nor 
what he may grow to be, which gives us 



HUMAN RIGHTS. 45 

our loftiest conception of his value and his 
claim to consideration on the part of his 
fellows. It is rather what God has done 
for him ; and that not so much the 
divine energy and skill shown in his cre- 
ation, nor the beauty and excellence of the 
product, nor the providential care of him, 
but especially and preeminently what God 
has done for his redemption. It is here, 
my hearers, depend on it, that we have the 
most impressive declaration that man's 
soul is of priceless value, the most deci- 
sive proof of the sacredness of humanity. 
About the cross it is that we gather the 
mightiest arguments for charity and broth- 
erly love. Does not Paul teach us this ? 
When he would urge the Christians at 
Rome to deny themselves for the sake of 
others, it is just this argument that he 
uses : < If thy brother be grieved with thy 
meat, now walkest thou not charitably. 
Destroy not him with thy meat for whom 
Christ died.'' 

" The argument is simple, intelligible, 
and cogent. If God so loved the world as 



46 MEMORIAL. 

to give his Son to die for it ; if the divine 
Son so loved and pitied men, that he was 
willing to exchange the glories of his Fa- 
ther's house for poverty, contradiction, an- 
guish, and death, that he might save them ; 
then shame on him who shall ever think it 
beneath him to turn an eye of pity and to 
extend a hand of mercy to the most 
wretched or the most wicked of the human 
family. And if the infinite God set such 
a value on man that he was fain to pay 
such a price for his redemption, then woe 
to him who shall, for sordid gain, oppress 
his fellow-men, for whom Christ died. 

" Does it not follow that the gospel of 
Christ is the best charter of human rights ? 
And, furthermore, it must be the whole 
gospel, and not the gospel shorn of its 
central fact, the doctrine of the cross. 
On the ground of philanthropy and human 
rights, the progress and triumph of liberal 
principles, we should carefully guard our 
gospel from mutilation. It is an undeniable 
historical fact, — such men as Brougham 
and Bancroft being judges, — that no 



IIUMAN RIGHTS. 47 

system of religion has supplied at once 
such a stimulus and bulwark to freedom 
and the rights of man as the system called 
— and sometimes opprobriously called — 
Calvinism. 

" What, now, does infidelity propose as 
its basis of human rights, its standard of 
• man's valuation ? Nature, — nothing but 
nature. Infidelity prates about progress, 
human rights, the worth of man, and uni- 
versal brotherhood ; it claims to be the 
sole depository of philanthropy, and treats 
the claims of religion with contempt. But 
it is no injustice to say that infidelity can- 
not be thoroughly merciful or philanthropic 
except at the expense of consistency. 
There is a type of infidelity which makes 
God's desertion of man as prominent as 
the gospel makes God's care of man. Man 
came into being, we know not how or 
when ; opened his eyes, a poor, weak, beg- 
garly brute of a thing ; was left to grope 
and crawl his way from the pitiable primal 
state, through his subsequent career of nat- 
ural and necessary development. By 



48 MEMORIAL. 

stumbling he learned to walk. Wisdom, 
dexterity, and skill he acquired by frequent 
mistakes. Sin is an incident to man's na- 
ture, — a misfortune, perhaps ; yet the nec- 
essary process of his development. Re- 
demption is a mere fancy, a myth. And 
so the race will go on in this course of self- 
evolution, according to necessary laws, to- 
ward perfection, until there shall be a relig- 
ion of humanity as much in advance of 
the religion of Christ, as that was in ad- 
vance of the religions that preceded it. 

" The peculiarity which I wish you to 
notice is the distance, the absence, the de- 
sertion of God. Man is everything. God is 
practically nothing. And if this is so, — 
if God deserts us for lack of interest in us, 
— what shall hinder that I shall follow his 
example and desert my neighbor from 
want of love to him, and be deserted by 
him in return ? I do not say that all the 
disciples of this school actually reason 
thus, and carry their philosophy to its legit- 
imate consequences. I cheerfully concede 
to many of them benevolent and generous 



HUMAN BIGHTS. 49 

instincts and the frequent utterance of no- 
ble pleas for justice, innocence, and right. 
But I repeat that they do this at the ex- 
pense of their consistency. The men are 
better than their principles. If they were 
all simple and frank enough, they would 
subscribe to the creed of one of their num- 
ber, the brilliant, cultivated, and transcen- 
dental Pagan sage, not of twenty centuries 
ago and in Rome or Athens, but of to-day 
and in Concord. ' Do not tell me,' he 
says, c as a good man did to-day, of my 
obligation to put all men in good situa- 
tions. Are they my poor ? I tell thee, 
thou foolish philanthropist, that I grudge 
the dollar, the dime, the cent I give to such 
men as do not belong to me, and to whom 
I do not belong." l Put this sentiment by 
the side of the gospel of Christ ; put it 
by the side of the parable of the Good 
Samaritan ; put it by the side of Calvin- 
ism ; and tell me which is the more favor- 
able to human happiness and rights." 

1 Essays by R. W. Emerson, vol. i. p. 43. 
4 



50 MEMORIAL. 

THE LAW OF PROGRESS. 

. . . . " There is a philosophy ex- 
tant, if it may be called such, which docs 
not recognize the necessity of any extraor- 
dinary and divinely interposed plan of 
remedy for the sins and woes of men. 
And if not necessary, then the inference is 
easy and proper too, that there is no such 
plan. The men whose opinion and judg- 
ments and predictions are tinged by the 
coloring of such a philosophy cannot shut 
their eyes to the manifold and tremendous 
evils rampant in the earth, the diseases 
that are preying upon the heart of society, 
and the world's life. They acknowledge 
all this. They cannot help it, for the thing 
is too visible and indubitable ; and yet, 
with the strangest and most unwarrantable 
commingling and confusion of evils, phys- 
ical, social, and moral, they resolve all 
into a blind necessity, or a figment which 
is called the nature of the case, or perhaps 
a law of human life. Together with all 
this imperfection, and these disorders, there 



THE LAW OF PROGRESS. 51 

is, they seem to think, in the individual 
soul, and in the race considered as a great 
organism, a native redeeming principle, 
an inherent, vis medicatrix, that is sure 
eventually to cure all. They are firm be- 
lievers in progress. They are decided 
optimists. The race is advancing they be- 
lieve unto perfection, and the good time is 
coming when it shall be healed of all its 
disorders, and be instated in complete 
soundness and harmony. But this they 
expect, so far as appears from their lan- 
guage, will be the result of the natural and 
even necessary development of an inward 
principle of life, a self-regulating and self- 
correcting force. The patient will eventu- 
ally recover, and flourish in the bloom of 
health and the proud consciousness of 
mature strength, not from the interposed 
skill of a matchless physician, and the 
potent influence of his balm, bat because 
he has so good a constitution. It is enough 
to let nature have her own way, and, how- 
ever desperate the case may now appear, 
nature will assert her power, and sooner or 



52 MEMORIAL. 

later will expel the disorder. This philos- 
ophy of which I speak, — which in effect 
leaves the race to work out its own re- 
demption by the blind action of an organic 
law, — this philosophy, I say, is not neces- 
sarily anti-religious. It wears the badges 
and titles of Christianity. It by no means 
denies the historical Christ. The man of 
Nazareth, according to it, falls into his 
proper place in humanity along with Con- 
fucius, Zoroaster, Socrates, and other ear- 
nest souls, great and heroic, prophets, 
teachers, and martyrs, who have all con- 
tributed their share, and Christ perhaps 
chiefest among them, to the discovery and 
establishment of great principles, to the 
evolution of a higher life, and to the prog- 
ress of the race toward that golden era 
of finished perfection. 

" Now I will venture to say that such a 
philosophy of human development is utter- 
ly false, because based upon a false as- 
sumption, namely, the idea that salvation is 
coming to the race from within and not 
from without ; that there is in the human 






THE LAW OF PROGRESS. 53 

race an organic law of progress toward 
moral perfection or improvement, a certain 
inherent medicinal power that will of itself 
prevail, an interior self-acting principle of 
conservation and redemption. If this were 
indeed so, then might we easily dispense 
with any foreign superhuman hero who 
might offer to tread the wine-press for us, 
and by his toil, and wrestle, and blood, 
purchase our redemption ; whether it be 
Krishnu of Indian mythology, or Oschan- 
dubega of the Persians, or Hercules of the 
Greeks, or Jesus of the Christians. 

u The assumption which is the basis of 
this philosophy, is contradicted by the facts 
of history, and by the testimony of Scrip- 
ture. Time will not permit a thorough 
examination of this part of the subject. I 
can only refer you to a few facts. What, 
for example, was the operation of the law 
of progress in antediluvian history ? Did 
not men fall away from the knowledge of 
the true God, and develop into a gigantic 
measure of wickedness, until it was past 
endurance, and the earth was purged of 



54 MEMORIAL. 

its vile inhabitants by a flood of waters ? 
And when again the human race was cra- 
dled in the household of Noah, and from 
that centre men again radiated and started 
on their respective lines of progress, was 
it not in a short time that the knowledge 
and worship of the true God was dropped 
and lost from many of the branches of that 
original stock? Is it not true that that 
knowledge and that pure worship was 
confined almost exclusively to one people 
until the coming of the Messiah, while 
other nations, though sometimes gilded 
with a material magnificence, and wield- 
ing an imposing material force, were really 
smitten with a leprosy, enervated with 
luxury, superstition, and vice, and rotting 
to their incurable decay ? And what was 
it that kept the Jewish people for forty 
centuries from this universal degeneracy ? 
Were they indebted for this exemption to 
any national peculiarity ? Was there a 
different force at work in their historic 
development ? Yea, truly there was ; but 
what was it? Was it anything native 



THE LAW OF PROGRESS. 55 

and inherent to themselves, — a conserva- 
tive power springing up and developing 
from within ? By no means ; but rather the 
imposing insignia and rituals of the The- 
ocracy ; the visible and flaming symbols of 
the awful Shekinah ; the perpetual and 
supernatural converse and correspondence 
of the great God himself with this chosen 
people. Ask the student of Jewish history, 
What advantage then hath the Jew ? And 
he will tell you, though he have never 
heard of Paul, i Chiefly, because that unto 
them were committed the oracles of God ; ' 
a revelation made from without, given by 
Jehovah himself, with august pomp and 
ceremony. These exterior and mighty 
influences it was, interposed by special di- 
vine acts, which saved them as a people 
from complete apostasy. 

" Now, from these historical examples, 
not to seek for more, although more are 
easily accessible, may we not fairly gen- 
eralize, and state it as a truth for all times 
and for #ie whole race, that, so far from 
there being any organic law in society by 



56 MEMORIAL. 

the undisturbed action of which, progress 
toward the pure, the noble, and the good 
is made certain, precisely the reverse is 
true, namely, that but for a restraining and 
redeeming influence from without, and 
that too, in the shape of a heaven-sent 
system of religion, progress will invariably 
be toward degradation and ruin. The re- 
ligions that have been fabricated by men 
in their corruption, unaided by extraor- 
dinary divine revelation, have been uni- 
formly cruel, destructive, suicidal, — whether 
it be the Fetichism of Africa, or the Poly- 
theism of the Sandwich Islands, or the 
Atheism of France in the eighteenth cen- 
tury. Some form of religion, however 
defective and false, is better than none ; 
for although the wiser and better instructed 
of the people may despise it, nevertheless 
its gods, its sanctions, its future, though 
dim and uncertain, and deformed, will 
serve as a restraint upon the masses, will 
interpose some barrier against a rampant 
wickedness, and thus retard the approach 
of ruin and extinction. But so deep-seated 



THE LAW OF PROGRESS. 57 

and virulent is the corruption of human 
nature, so headlong are the passions and 
lower instincts of men, that there is no 
security, I had almost said no moral 
possibility, for the true progress of any peo- 
ple, or for the race, except in the possession 
of Jehovah's oracles, reverence for his au- 
thority, delight in his worship, and his 
interposed guidance. Suppose all knowl- 
edge and memory of the Christian system, 
its doctrine, its ethics, its promises, and its 
institutions, were blotted to-day from the 
leading nations of Christendom, and, with 
all the pride and glory of Western civiliza- 
tion, what other force can you think of, 
either organic, sympathetic, or accidental, 
that could long save those nations from 
lapsing at least into the paganism of 
Greece and Rome, with its foul deities, 
and corrupting religious festivals of which 
it were a shame to speak ! 

" May we not safely say, then, that the 
evidence is irresistible to show that if 
restoration and salvation come at all to 
our fallen race, it must come from without, 



58 



MEMORIAL. 



from above? It is not the flowering or 
fruit of any germ within the organism of 
the race, destined to swell and develop 
itself by the force of an inherent life-princi- 
ple. The method of man's deliverance, 
while it is not contrary to nature, is yet 
above nature. It is transcendent, it is 
divine." 



lis 3ittat in Jktunutl Mutrs. 

Respecting Mr. Little's interest in na- 
tional affairs, a friend has written : — 

" Mr. Little's ministry occupied that 
momentous period in our national history 
when the long conflict of ideas on the 
subject of slavery was hastening to its 
crisis, and about to burst into the conflict 
of arms. Already argument had been 
silenced at the South in the forcible sup- 
pression of freedom of speech. Slavery 
had begun to be advocated as a divine 
institution, entitled to indefinite extension 
and perpetuation. The attempt by politi- 
cal action to smother the Constitution in 
its own processes, and thus to suffocate 
the American idea of equal rights, was 
apparently advancing by mighty strides, 
like the repeal of the Missouri Compro- 

(59 



60 MEMORIAL. 

* 

mise and the Dred Scott decision, to suc- 
cess. On the other hand, the people of 
the free States were discovering the real 
character and tendency of these move- 
ments, and preparing for that decisive 
exercise of their political power which 
obstructed the plans of slave-holders, and 
maddened them to appeal to arms as the 
surest and shortest way to accomplish 
their designs. 

" With the prophetic insight character- 
izing a soul habitually in communion with 
truth, obedient to principle, and believing 
in the progress of Christ's kingdom, Mr. 
Little penetrated the significance of that 
period, and clearly saw, what subsequent 
events have demonstrated to all, that it 
was one of the grander epochs in the 
progress of Christian civilization. There- 
fore, tremulously alive as he was to all 
that concerns Christ's kingdom and hu- 
man welfare, he could not but feel an 
absorbing interest in the great issues af- 
fecting Christianity and humanity which 
were involved in the political contests of 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 61 

his day. He studied carefully the subject 
of slavery, and the political history of his 
own country. He observed closely the 
course of political measures and of popu- 
lar feeling, and the schemes of ambitious 
leaders. He had a rare power of pene- 
trating through disguises to the core of a 
man's character. During his lifetime the 
leaders of the rebellion enjoyed the confi- 
dence of their political party and of the 
people generally ; yet his friends remember 
in what strong terms he used to express 
his estimate of some of them ; an esti- 
mate which, however harsh it seemed 
then, has been fully verified. But severity 
did not predominate in his feelings. He 
mourned for the national sins with the 
tenderness and humility of a Christian 
heart. These sins often, as a grievous 
burden, bowed his spirit and led him to 
make confessions and supplications like 
Daniel's. 

" Mr. Little, like the early Puritans, was 
a diligent student of the Old Testament, 
and applied its teachings to his own times. 



62 MEMORIAL. 

Though in peace and prosperity the Old 
Testament is often neglected, and seems 
to lose its pertinence, it is a noticeable 
fact in history, that in times of persecution 
or public commotion, when wickedness 
lifts the iron hand of violence against the 
kingdom of Christ, then the church re- 
turns with a new zest to the Old Testa- 
ment, and discovers in it a wonderful 
significance and appositeness ; traces with 
delight, in God's dealings with his chosen 
people and their powerful enemies, the 
divine philosophy of human history, the 
subordination of everything in the admin- 
istration of God's providence to the ad- 
vancement of his kingdom. Mr. Little 
was particularly attracted to Jeremiah, 
and in his Bible he had marked many pas- 
sages applicable to our own times. He 
used to say there never was any political 
preaching so tremendous as Jeremiah's ; 
and that it was no wonder the priests and 
false prophets cried out, ' This man is wor- 
thy to die, for he hath prophesied against 
this city, as ye have heard with your ears.' 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 63 

" He considered presidential and state 
elections as periods of great solemnity. 
At the weekly prayer-meeting preceding 
the presidential election of 1856, — the last 
which he ever witnessed, — he read the 
twentieth chapter of second Chronicles. 
Says one who was present : ' His utterance 
in reading was so impressive that I could 
never forget it. His words, his animated 
countenance, his tones of voice, and his 
manner were an eloquent commentary on 
that chapter. He made a thrilling appeal, 
exhorting to trust in God, and expressing 
the belief that the contest was the most 
momentous that had occurred in our na- 
tional history; because, as he said, there 
never was a contest in which were involved 
so many of the principles that lie at the 
foundation of Christianity.' .... 

" With these views of the epochal im- 
portance of passing events, Mr. Little 
could not be silent in the pulpit respecting 
them. Clear in his convictions and ear- 
nest in maintaining them ; compelled by 
his own nature to frank, definite, and bold 



64 MEMORIAL. 

utterance ; regarding truth as a sacred trust 
committed to him, which, as a preacher 
called by God, it was his life-work to 
teach, vindicate, and make effective ; he 
w x ould have regarded himself unfaithful to 
his calling, had he failed in his preaching 
to make pointed application of the princi- 
ples of the gospel to the political action 
of his times. He did not preach politics. 
He was never identified with a political 
party, and never had the slightest personal 
interest dependent on a party triumph. 
Even in that higher sphere of politi- 
cal thought which rises above all parties, 
he had nothing to say in the pulpit. He 
believed that a minister had no right to 
discuss in the pulpit whether any measure 
was or was not constitutional, or accord- 
ing to sound principles of finance or of 
statesmanship. But he considered him- 
self bound, as a minister, to expound the 
Bible, and to apply its teachings to slavery 
and all other public questions. When 
any action of an individual, a party, or 
the government; when any course of 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 65 

measures, or any existing institution over- 
rides God's law, debauches the public 
conscience, justifies wrong-doing, upholds 
oppression, then the minister must pro- 
claim the principles of God's eternal truth 
against such action or institution. 

" When slavery shall have ceased, future 
and more Christian generations will read 
with astonishment, that it was regarded by 
some as a desecration of his sacred office 
for a minister to declare in prayer or ser- 
mon, that American slavery was contrary 
to the gospel ; and that, since the rebellion, 
some would not hear a minister pray for 
the success of the government in suppress- 
ing ^ 

" Mr. Little believed that his great work 
as a minister was to unveil the spiritual, 
and make its realities a power in human 
life ; to make men know God, and them- 
selves as sinners, and Christ as their Re- 
deemer, and to come to him in penitence 
and faith. But he believed also that the 
man when converted, needs to be instruct- 
ed as to the ideal of the Christian life and 



66 MEMORIAL. 

of the kingdom of God on earth, in order 
that, quickened by these new motives and 
this new love, he may use his influence for 
the realization in society of the righteous- 
ness and love which characterize Christ's 
kingdom. He was not content that his 
words should be 

' Like blossoms, breathing perishable sweets,' 

but a fire and a hammer that break eth 
the rock in pieces. 

" The influence of Mr. Little's preaching 
on these subjects was powerful in the com- 
munity in which he lived, and he was 
sometimes publicly maligned by those who 
felt and feared his power. But the im- 
pression that he was always or often 
preaching on these topics was erroneous. 
His sermons were usually of a different 
character, unfolding and applying the va- 
ried spiritual truths and motives of the 
gospel. His preaching was not, as some 
not accustomed to hearing him imagined, 
intellectual but dry. While he was pre- 
eminently intellectual in his preaching, 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 67 

clear, direct, thoughtful, there was a pre- 
vailing tenderness, and often a pathos that 
touched the deepest springs of emotion. 

"Equally erroneous was the idea that 
these were his favorite subjects, and that 
he took pleasure in severe and sarcastic 
denunciation. Mr. Little had a keen wit 
and the power of sarcasm ; and it would be 
strange if, with so dangerous a weapon 
always at command, he did not sometimes 
use it when it might better have been un- 
employed. This entire class of sermons 
had no special attraction for him. Except 
for the conviction of duty, he would gladly 
have avoided them. He was naturally of 
a retiring and self-depreciating disposition, 
shrinking sensitively from collision with his 
fellow-men, and craving sympathy ; but 
duty made him bold. His interest in Jere- 
miah has been mentioned. He resembled 
this tender-hearted, but bold patriot. 
Once, when speaking of the prophet's re- 
pugnance to being ; a man of strife,' he 
said he felt a great sympathy for Jere- 
miah. 



68 MEMORIAL. 

" The Puritan churches from the begin- 
ning have recognized the obligation of 
ministers to use the principles of Chris- 
tianity in vindicating human rights. The 
Puritan ministry have performed this duty ; 
and history acknowledges that their influ- 
ence has been prominent in the advance- 
ment of English and American liberty. 
Mr. Little's preaching was accordant with 
the tone of Puritan preaching from the 
first ; contrary only to that partial apostasy 
from the lofty spirit and practice of the 
fathers which has been showing itself in this 
generation. Nor was he singular in this ; 
but rather, an example of the New Eng- 
land ministry The charge has been 

made that the ministers caused the war. 
If so, it could only have been by indoctri- 
nating the public mind with the principles 
of justice and human rights, universal 
brotherhood and love. It could have been 
only by teaching the great Puritan ideas 
which have been the vitality of our nation- 
al life. If this is the meaning of the charge, 
it is an honor to the ministry. Deep 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 69 

would be the shame, if history, in record- 
ing this great struggle against slavery, 
should be obliged to record that the Chris- 
tian ministry lifted no voice to plead for 
the oppressed, and to vindicate the rights 
of man. It is to the honor of Mr. Little 
that, though he died before the crisis came, 
he saw with prophetic insight the signifi- 
cance of the contest, and anticipated its 
issue ; and that all his influence, as a man 
and as a minister, was given, in a time of 
darkness and discouragement, to uphold 
the right and to plead for the oppressed." 

The following extracts will exemplify 
Mr. Little's manner of preaching on these 
subjects : — 

From a sermon preached Dec, 19, 1850. 

" Psalm ii. 11. — Serve the Lord with fear, and re- 
joice with trembling. 

" Before leaving this part of the subject, 
I must turn again to the dark shades of it, 
and refer to certain conflicting elements in 



70 MEMORIAL. 

our body politic which threaten convul- 
sions, and which perhaps neither our con- 
stitution, nor any human instrument what- 
soever, can avail to heal and reconcile. 
These warring elements are working be- 
tween the North and the South, and upon 
the subject of Slavery. The questions re- 
lating to this subject are incomparably 
more vital to the safety of our Union and 
government, than any which relate to cur- 
rency, banks, or tariffs. They will be ag- 
itated, and agitated with more and more 
determination, until the cause of them is 
removed, — until American slavery, so far 
as the general government has anything to 
do with it, and consequently so far as we 
have any responsibility in the matter, is be- 
yond the reach of our consciences. For 
as sure and as long as the obstinate pride 
and the selfish interests of the South meet 
the conscience of the North on this sub- 
ject of Slavery, just so sure and just so 
long will there be collision and eruption. 
If neither will yield, there must inevitably 
be a fight to the death, the fair fabric of 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 71 

our Union shivered into fragments, suc- 
ceeded very likely by the horrors of civil 
war. And it is a serious truth, moreover, 
that the conscience of the North will never 
yield." 

From a sermon preached July 4, 1852. 

" John viii. 36. — If the Son, therefore, shall make 
you free, ye shall be free indeed. 

" Let me direct your thought to the practi- 
cal instruction for ourselves, to be found in 
the rise, and growth, and decay of empires. 
In spite of the vicissitudes of the past, in 
full view of the graves of buried cities and 
extinguished nationalities, we believe our- 
selves insured against a fate so dismal ; we 
promise for our beloved and ascendant 
country a future ever brightening. But 
others have thought so. So thought 
Palmyra, Thebes, Memphis, Nineveh and 
Babylon, Tyre and Carthage, and old 
Rome. But where are they? Decayed, 
dead, buried ! And yet we speak of our 
future with proud security. It is well to 



72 MEMORIAL. 

consider on what we build this hope of 
exemption from so common a lot. What 
element of strength, stability, and duration 
have we, which they had not ? Is our su- 
periority to be found in any of the forms 
of material prosperity ? Are we rich ? 
So were they. Have we an extended and 
gainful trade and commerce? So had 
some of them. Have we knowledge and 
letters ? So had they. The writers of 
Greece and Rome in the times of Pericles 
and Augustus are still our masters. Are 
we possessed of many and curious arts ? 
So were they. They attained a skill and 
facility unknown to us in the use of me-* 
chanical forces, the results of which pro- 
voke the wonder of our time. Have we 
free institutions ? So had they. Are we 
democrats ? So were some of them. Re- 
publicans? So were they. Greece had 
her democracy and her republics. Rome 
had her republic. The word republic is 
not a new word, a modern word. No ; 
time was, as we are told, when republics 
were the order of the day, not on the 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 73 

Western, but on the Eastern continent ; 
not in Europe only, but in Asia Minor, 
and in Africa even ; when, to see a mon- 
archy and a king, men had to travel as far 
to the East as Persia. There is no magic 
in the word republic, to charm off decay 
from a nation. 

" If, therefore, our hopes and prophecies 
in relation to our own country's permanent 
prosperity are to be fulfilled, it will be for 
some other reason than that we have now 
the common signs and conditions of na- 
tional health. If the story of extinct em- 
pires is not to be told over again at the 
grave of our country, it will be because of 
the action in the midst of us of some 
mighty conservative principle, which was 
wanting to them. This principle, thanks 
be to God ! we do have ; an agent salutary 
and powerful. It is Christianity, the only 
sure guaranty of the prosperity and per- 
manence of any nation. Nothing but 
Christianity, the principles of the gospel 
of Jesus, made actual in the lives and in- 
tercourse of men, can oppose to the evil 



74 MEMORIAL. 

tendencies of degenerate human nature an 
efficient check and antidote. The instabil- 
ity of the national weal without true re- 
ligion, has received ample confirmation in 
the lapse of past ages. We have yet to 
see a fair exhibition, a complete illus- 
tration, of what Christianity can do for 
national welfare and renown. 

" Do we not see here, my friends, the 
connection between religion and patriot- 
ism? Love of country will prompt to 
such courses as will best promote that coun- 
try's good, and tend most to promote its 
permanent prosperity. The truest pledge 
and proof of such prosperity is to be found 
in the virtue of the people, high and low, 
rich and poor, — a virtue springing from the 
basis of the gospel, having the life and 
doctrine of Christ for its measure and law. 
How plainly, then, is it the duty of every 
good citizen to honor the Christian relig- 
ion, and do everything in his power to 
propagate its distinctive principles ! And 
how can he do that so well as by receiving 
that religion into his heart, as the ruling 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 75 

impulse of his life? Christianity cannot 
pervade the masses so as to produce its 
benign effects upon society, except through 
the hearts of men. For Christianity is 
not so much a dogma as a life, — not so 
much a collection of propositions to be be- 
lieved intellectually, as a body of vital 
principles sunk deep in the heart, to give 
life and energy to its impulses, to be prop- 
agated by example, by the power of sym- 
pathy, and the inbreathing of the Spirit of 
God. Christianity, therefore, cannot do 
its office, and exert its purifying and con- 
servative influence, except by men's be- 
coming Christians. And oh, what an ar- 
gument this, to persuade men of all ranks, 
who love their country, w T ho acknowledge 
the power and the beneficence of the Chris- 
tian religion, to open not the intellect alone 
to its theory, but the heart to its spirit and 
life ! » 

From a sermon preached July 16, 
1854. 

"Prov. xxi. 1. — The king's heart is in the hand 



76 MEMORIAL. 

of the Lord, as the rivers of water : he turneth it 
whithersoever he will. 

" The crumbling and ruin of this ' im- 
perial republic,' as Sir James Mackintosh 
called it, the overthrow and wreck of the 
present frame of things, may be essential to 
the accomplishment of God's plans, to the 
greatest good of his kingdom, — nay, the 
greatest good of coming generations. It 
is a cheap and easy thing to predict for 
our country an immortal progress. But to 
do this in the face of history, with a 
knowledge of our growing luxury and slav- 
ery, and greedy ambition for power, is fool- 
hardy, is puerile to the last degree. We 
do not despair yet of our country. But it 
cannot be that all the laws of God and 
nature are to be reversed for our benefit, 
just to allow Anglo-Saxon America to 
spread itself, and extend over this conti- 
nent the area of its equivocal, its lying 
freedom. The early history of our coun- 
try is a proud one, and God's hand is con- 
spicuous in it. We of New England, at 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 77 

least, thank God for a pious ancestry, and 
count it our joy to build up our body poli- 
tic on foundations laid in prayer and in the 
fear of God. But there is no such virtue 
in the prayers and good living of a re- 
mote ancestry, as to avert the lightning of 
Heaven from us, if we will repudiate the 
divine law, pervert justice, commit the 
work of our legislation to profane, drunken 
duellists, and suffer them to legalize in- 
iquity, and nationalize the worst forms of 
oppression. That bolt will come, will 
shiver, will break in pieces, if this wicked- 
ness continues. And what shall we do ? 
Where shall we look for succor ? To pop- 
ular sovereignty, forsooth ? Are not we, 
the people, sovereigns'? If so, then are 
we, the people, responsible for the foul 
legislation of later years, and the disease 
is too deep and wide-spread to admit of 
much hope. But if popular sovereignty, 
which is our peculiar boast, be not an 
empty vaunt, then let the people rise ; and 
if they have virtue enough to deserve 
anything better than the Nebraska type 



78 MEMORIAL. 

of legislation, let them hurl from their 
seats those corrupt men who now defile 
the national capitol, and replace them with 
men who fear God, who will do justly. 
. . . But unless God shall come and 
help us, I confess my heart will sink, my 
hope must die." 

From a sermon preached Nov. 26, 1854, 
after the attack upon Hon. Charles Sum- 
ner. 

" Matt. x. 34. — Think not that I am come to 
send peace on earth : I came not to send peace, but a 
sword. 

" We need not wonder nor be alarmed 
at the commotions and fermentations 
in the world, at the desperate struggles 
of wicked men, at the threats and fury 
of slavery propagandists, and their un- 
blushing avowal and actual execution of 
the most atrocious designs. These men 
are exasperated by opposition, and it is an 
omen of good that they are opposed. It is 
hopeful that there are men who will pro- 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 79 

test, at least, against their designs, — yea, 
who will resist even unto blood, striving 
against then ruffianly endeavors. Let no 
one wonder at the rage into which the 
wicked lash themselves. When truth is 
brought in contact with error, and justice 
with oppression, and a spirit of self-denial 
and humility with a lordly spirit of selfish- 
ness, we have just the state of things which 
Jesus predicted in the text. And however 
much we may grieve at sharp and angry 
discussions, party animosities, and sec- 
tional estrangements, yet, until stagnation 
is better than life, — until the peace that has 
its basis in the undisputed sway of wrong 
is better than the war that springs from 
the aspirations of a defrauded humanity, — 
we will neither wonder at nor much lament 
the tumults of this world. 

" Bad men, who are oppressing their fel- 
lows and preying upon society, if they are 
opposed or reasoned with, generally re- 
quest to be let alone, promising that if 
pretended philanthropists and reformers 
will mind their own business and leave 



80 MEMORIAL. 

them to theirs, there will be no trouble ; 
but if not, there will be something very 
alarming, — some street riot, some Union 
dissolved, the responsibility of which will 
rest on the shoulders of the fanatics who 
presumed to disturb the wild beasts. ' Let 
us alone ; what have we to do with thee, 
Jesus thou Son of God ? ' So cried the two 
demoniacs who met our Saviour in the 
country of the Gergesenes. So cry all 
men who are possessed with devils, and 
who are willing to have it so. . . . 

" The question when right shall triumph 
in our own land, after how many more 
experiments and failures, is not easy to 
decide. It may not come until long after 
we are in our graves, and the stain of time 
and growth of moss have hidden our 
names from him who stops to read. It 
may not come till after our country has 
been made to drink the cup and tread the 
winepress of God's indignation ; till we 
are broken by dismemberment, — till our 
boasted institutions are in ruins, — till civil 
war rages at our vitals, and blood, blood 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 81 

rises to the horse-bridles ! From such hor- 
rors we will all pray, in an agony will we 
pray, Good Lord, deliver us ! But no 
man can say that it is impossible, that we 
are not tending toward such calamities. 
And no one will deny that we deserve to 
fall upon such times, if we will not do 
what we can to avert them. What means 
can we use? What measures must we 
take ? We can pray ; and let prayer with- 
out ceasing be put up to that God who 
hates iniquity, who loves mercy and truth, 
and who can bring to confusion the most 
elaborate schemes of wickedness. With- 
out Him we cannot conquer, and if we 
could, the victory would not be worth a 
single shout of gratulation. 

" But as faith without works is dead, so 
prayer without the work of the hands, 
when such work is possible, is an insult 
to Him who ordained both. We have 
tongues and pens, and above all, at this 
crisis of our country ? s shame, we have the 
elective franchise. Shame upon us, woe 
be to us, if we do not use all these aright ! 



82 MEMORIAL. 

If there was ever a time, it is now, when 
the slowest tongue will leap into the fer- 
vors of an unwonted eloquence, when the 
coldest pen will be tipped with fire. If 
there was ever a time, it is now, when the 
ballot-box is invested with real sacredness, 
and we should regard our privilege of elec- 
tive franchise as a most religious duty. 
For through that engine of power, the 
traitors in high places who have betrayed 
us, betrayed humanity, betrayed innocent 
blood, shall be hurled from the seats they 
have disgraced by the scathing sirocco 
of popular indignation. A few months 
hence, and the question will be settled, 
w r hether the voters in the free States de- 
serve to be freemen or slaves. 

" I do not say, for I do not believe, that 
slavery is the only foe to our country's 
honor and stability. We are not like 
Achilles, vulnerable in the heel only. We 
may be slain by ambition, by wealth, by 
luxury, by pride, by Romanism, by athe- 
istic materialism. But I do believe that 
by far the most urgent question just now 



INTEREST IN NATIONAL AFFAIRS. 83 

relates to the extension of slavery over 
new territories, and the triumph of South- 
ern ruffianism. 

" Who is responsible for that dark red 
stain that has burned itself deep into the 
floor of that august chamber of the capitol 
at Washington ? — a stain which all the 
waters of the Potomac cannot wash out. 
Who is responsible for that foul and brutal 
outrage which has sent the fierce blood of 
every Northerner, who is not himself a 
brute and a slave, tingling through his 
veins ? Responsible ? Why, Charles Sum- 
ner, to be sure, and his confederates, the 
black Republicans in Congress. Who laid 
upon them a necessity to provoke the 
chivalric Southrons ? Did not they know 
the temper of these gallant men, and their 
attachment to that darling institution of 
the South, and their indignant repudiation 
of the sentiment that this institution of 
chattel slavery should be sectional, and not 
national ? 

" I believe that we are environed with a 
peril, — even now it is at the door ; a peril to 



84 MEMORIAL. 

the honor and dearest institutions of our 
country ; a peril to our Western civiliza- 
tion ; a peril to our common Christianity, 
of far greater magnitude than the bom- 
bardment of a hundred cities. Oh, is it 
not a question upon which Christianity 
has something to say, and much to de- 
mand of you and me, whether a policy 
which was begun in treachery, and has 
been pushed forward in fraud, violence, 
and murder, shall or shall not be rebuked? 
Whether that fair territory of Kansas, the 
key to this continent morally, now still 
more geographically, shall unlock a future 
of brilliant progress in the pathway of free 
institutions and a Christian civilization, or 
a future of deepening degradation, barba- 
rism and shame ? Let every man be seri- 
ous with himself, and inquire if he has 
taken the place he means to occupy 
through the whole of this contest. Look 
well to yourselves and see if your place be 
in the hosts of the Lord, or in the army of 
God's great adversary." 



Clnst nf 311r. jCittk'fi 3Wini.stri[ in Songft. 

During the summer of 1857, after a 
residence of nearly eight years in Ban- 
gor, ]\Ir. Little became convinced that 
he was physically unequal to the care of 
so large a church and congregation. A 
disease of the eyes, from which he had 
suffered four years, was, he thought, mak- 
ing rapid progress, and, with other symp- 
toms of failing health, constrained him to 
seek relief by change of situation. 

Before making any public announce- 
ment of his purpose, he often spoke in 
his family of the pain and perplexity he 
felt in view of withdrawing from a re- 
lation which had been to him so dear 
and sacred. He knew not how to com- 

f85) 



86 MEMORIAL. 

municate with his people upon the sub- 
ject. " No," he said, sometimes ; " I shall 
never have the courage to do it, — never" 

In September he was invited to become 
the pastor of the Congregational Church 
in West Newton, Mass. The compara- 
tive rest which he would find in a rural 
parish, and the pleasant impressions he 
had already received of this place, inclined 
him to regard the proposition with favor. 
It seemed that the providence of God made 
his path plain, and with much prayer 
he followed the indication. 

His people listened with sorrow to 
his letter of resignation, and accepted it 
with unfeigned reluctance. It was with 
a generous disinterestedness that they 
yielded to his request. 

To a friend he wrote, after all was 
over : — 

" You may well speculate in perplexi- 



MINISTRY IN BANGOR. 87 

ty about my leaving Bangor. It is a 
long and painful story ; painful, not be- 
cause it tells of alienation, but of the 
sundering of ties which were increasingly 
strong and tender to the last, and which 
will doubtless remain so to the end of 
time. Never could a people have treated 
me more generously than they, while I 
was with them ; and never could a peo- 
ple have parted with their pastor more 
nobly and gracefully." 

On Sabbath, October 18, Mr. Little 
delivered a farewell discourse, from Isai- 
ah liii : 1. — " Who hath believed our 
report ? and to whom is the arm of 
the Lord revealed ? " In conclusion, he 
said • — 

" I feel my ministerial inefficiency and 
unfaithfulness more then ever, as I stand 
to-day at the close of eight years' pro- 
fessional labor among you. This chapter 
thus sealed, can never be -altered, never 
be blotted out. Whatever in it is good 



88 MEMORIAL. 

and desirable will forever remain, and 
will forever illustrate the goodness and 
the grace of Him in whom are all our 
springs, and from whom all holy desires, 
all good counsels, and all just works do 
proceed. Whatever marks of imperfec- 
tion, mistake, unfaithfulness, are to be 
found in this completed chapter, will 
always mar and disfigure it. We cannot 
erase those blots. For my own part, as 
they now stare me in the face in my 
backward reading, I can only find com- 
fort in the penitence of an humbled heart, 
and the earnest cry for forgiveness, and 
the remembrance of that merciful assur- 
ance that ' where sin hath abounded, 
grace shall much more abound.' 

" I cannot dwell — I have not the nerve 
— upon the pain of sundering such a rela- 
tion as mine has been with you. The an- 
ticipation of it kept me long wavering and 
vacillating, even after my judgment was 
convinced that God was by his providence 
calling me away. 

" To those of you who have been ac- 



MINISTRY IN BANGOR. 89 

quainted with the fluctuations of my health 
for the last year, my decision cannot seem 
sudden. Never did I give to a subject so 
careful, thorough, and prayerful deliberation, 
and never was I so conscious through the 
whole of desiring to do only that which 
my Master in heaven could approve. 

" Whether I shall acomplish my object 
by the change, I cannot, of course, be in- 
fallibly sure. I confess that my hope is 
not very confident, nor are my expectations 
sanguine. • God may be leading me into 
peril and conflict, rather than rest and 
safety ; but that he is leading me, I have a 
strong persuasion ; and I am sure that 
wherever he leads, it is both wise and safe 
courageously to follow. 

" I must tell you how grateful I have 
always felt to you, and how I am more 
deeply and tenderly impressed now than 
ever with the kindness which in many ways 
I have experienced at your hands. When 
I stood in this pulpit, eight years ago, timid 
and trembling, crude and inexperienced as 
I was, just from my quiet nest in the Sem- 



90 MEMORIAL. 

inary, and preached the first sermon after 
my ordination, I said, * Were it not for my 
confidence in the officers of this church, — 
were it not for my confidence in the gener- 
osity of this people, — I never could have 
ventured on the step I have taken.' I now 
say gladly, and without the least reser- 
vation, that the confidence in the officers of 
this church, expressed eight years ago, was 
not misplaced. Great reason have I to 
thank them, as I now do publicly, for that 
singular deference and affection which 
they have uniformly shown toward me. 
May they long be spared to the service of 
religion here ! 

" The same testimony I can honestly, 
and do cheerfuly, render to the considerate 
and friendly treatment which I have ever 
received from you all. Very few ministers, 
I am persuaded, can look back upon eight 
years of such uninterrupted harmony, and 
such a delightful pastoral relation. 

"It is not by numerical statistics that we 
learn the power and value of such inter- 
course as mine has been with you. The 



MINISTRY IN BANGOR. 91 

silent, subtle influence, favorable or other- 
wise, upon your opinions, tastes, character, 
and destiny, proceeding not only from my 
public appeals, but also from your contact 
with me in the various walks of private 
and social life, — in scenes of joy and sor- 
row, at the bridal and at the burial ; this 
influence, though possibly not consciously 
great at any one time, will work for good 
or ill not only in you, but in others over 
whom you have power, and that forever. 
Such results of any minister's labors are 
for God alone to estimate. Eternity will 
be the measure of them. 

" The scenes which I shall remember 
longest, and with the most tender interest, 
will be those of affliction and sorrow, in 
which I have borne a part since I became 
your pastor : the chambers of disease and 
death which have been gilded with the 
brightness of an anticipated heavenly glory. 

" And here, too, I have reaped the fairest 
rewards of my professional life ; not in the 
pulpit, but in the chamber of the sick and 
dying, and from their greetings ; from the 



92 MEMORIAL. 

smile that has sometimes irradiated their 
pale faces as I approached the bedside, — 
the attenuated hand extended to grasp mine, 

— the manifest satisfaction with which they 
would lay hold upon some sweet word 
of the blessed gospel which I repeated, 

— the unaffected request that I would 
call often. In my introductory sermon I 
find these words : l It will be well for a 
minister, and a crown of glory to him, 
if his presence in the chamber of sick- 
ness be hailed with delight ; if the words 
of his prayer and of his counsel shall 
give strength and courage to the spirit that 
is passing away from its earthly tenement.' 
What I then wrote as the dictate of my 
judgment, I now repeat with emphasis — 
devoutly will I bless God for it ! — as a 
part of my own experience. Next to the 
approving smile of my Lord above, this is 
what my soul has craved ; this is what will 
ever be one of the sweetest pledges that 
my ministerial life has not been quite in 
vain. 

" And now, as I look round about upon 



MINISTRY IN BANGOR. 93 

you all, and forward to the possibilities of 
the next eight years, I see that some of the 
places you now occupy — how many I know 
not, but some of them — will surely be va- 
cant And I need to run my eyes but a 
few years beyond that, to find all our 
places vacant. For Death, how insatiable 
and how busy he is ! All the partings, all 
the changes in this life, are but the pre- 
lude, as they ought to be, to the prepara- 
tion for that final separation ; a separation 
which is at the same time a reunion with 
the dear ones who have died in the Lord 
and gone before us, — gone before to herald 
our approach, and to lay up for us a treas- 
ure in the heavenly world. 

" It is a solemn, it is a mysterious thing 
to die. It is an experience with which no 
living man intermeddles. The loneliness, 
the isolation, the strict and absolute indi- 
viduality of that experience is, to me, a 
most impressive fact. ' It is a very differ- 
ent thing/ said a dying friend to me not 
long ago, ' to see another approaching the 
grave, step by step, from what it is to be 



94 MEMORIAL. 

conscious that it is you yourself.' Each 
man dies as truly for himself, and alone, 
as if no great army had gone before him, 
and as if the gateway to the spirit-world 
were not every day rilled with a crowd 
thronging through together. But whatever 
it may be to die, how easy or how hard 
soever, we shall soon know just what it is. 
And when I think how gladly I would be 
of service to you all, living or dying, I can- 
not help asking, who will be with you 
when you die ? Some kind physician, no 
doubt ; some man of God, if you wish, 
to help you with his teachings and his 
prayers ; dear kindred and friends to soothe 
you with a thousand kind offices, and with 
the sympathy of breaking hearts and weep- 
ing eyes. God grant that the circumstances 
of your departure may afford all those 
comforts ! But who else will be there ? 
Will you need no one else ? Will you 
not turn your imploring eyes hither and 
thither for some one else ? I think so. I 
am sure it will be so with me. Oh, if in 
that hour I cannot find Him, the blessed, 






MINISTRY IN BANGOR. 95 

the almighty Jesus, not only in my dying 
chamber, but in my heart ; if I cannot 
persuade myself — and ah! what is more 
important, have reason to persuade myself 
— that he is mine, and I am his, it will be 
dreadful, it will be appalling, to die. And 
as I have ever testified to you, so will I re- 
peat it as my maturest conviction, growing 
stronger to this hour, that the only good 
ground for hope and joy in death is a heart 
and life devoted to Christ. 

" I can only, in conclusion, exhort you 
not to lose heart, but to be courageous and 
hopeful, trusting ever in that God who has 
hitherto helped you, and who will not de- 
sert you now. I implore you to cultivate 
still, and now more than ever, that spirit 
of harmonious cooperation, which has al- 
ways characterized you as a society. 

" Of this I am sure, that 4 the Lord is 
with you, while ye be with him ; and if ye 
seek him, he will be found of you ; but if 
ye forsake Mm, he will forsake you.' n 



tm\ tpr at fflid fctmt. 

Mr. Little had been installed at West 
Newton, November 12, 1857. The hope 
which he had cherished of regaining his 
health was disappointed. During the 
spring and summer of 1859, he suffered 
from increasing feebleness. The affection 
of his eyes, which had now continued 
nearly six years, appeared like a confirmed 
malady, and in other respects his health 
declined. 

" This mysterious debility," he said ; M it 
seems as if it would consume my very ex- 
istence." " I think I begin 

to understand what God is preparing for 
me. I have thought I must wait for 
health, before I could serve God ; but I 

(96) 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 97 

have concluded that what I have to do 
is to devote to the Lord what strength I 
have." 

The time of some member of the family 
was always at Mr. Little's disposal for 
reading ; yet he often preferred to spend 
hours in silence. He once remarked : — 

" This condition of my eyes is very de- 
pressing ; but it is a good time for me to 
look at the things which are unseen and 

eternal I am finding out that there 

are other and better teachers than books." 

His frequent petition at the family altar 
was : — 

" May we be prepared for the days 
of darkness and evil which are surely com- 
ing, the days of weakness and decay, — for 
any cup which our heavenly Father may 
be mingling for us." 

One of the last discourses which he was 
able to write was from James iv. 14, — 

" Ye know not what shall be on the mor- 

x 



98 MEMORIAL. 

row." The following are extracts from 
this sermon : — 

" Almost every day brings with it some 
illustration of the truth of the text. Con- 
sider the changes, startling and unexpected, 
which a few short hours will sometimes 
effect ; some friend talking with you to-day, 
in all the elation of health and hope, — his 
mind teeming with plans for the future, — 
to-morrow in his coffin ; a battle issuing in 
the death of thousands of brave men in full 
life, and a change in the political destiny 
of a whole continent; a bright and gay 
family suddenly overcast with gloom, the 
sound of the viol exchanged for wailing, 
from some calamity which an hour has 
brought forth. In these, and a thousand 
other forms, God is impressively illustrat- 
ing before our eyes the shortness of our 
sight. * Ye know not what shall be on the 
morrow.' " . . . . " It is a mercy that we 
do not know the future ; and this whether 
it is to be prosperous or adverse. For if 
prosperous, the knowledge of it would have 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 99 

a tendency to elate the mind, and throw it 
from a healthy balance, lead to a neglect 
of those means and conditions on which 
prosperity is ordinarily suspended, and 
thus, if possible, frustrate the very purpose 

of God 

" Again, and preeminently, it is a mercy 
that we do not know the future, if it is to 
bring for us adversity, trial, and sorrow. 
1 Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' 
How often is it the case, when a man has 
labored to the end of some great achieve- 
ment, that we hear him say, as he looks 
back upon the painful way through which 
he has travelled, ' If I had known what 
was before me, when I undertook that 
work, I never should have had the courage 
for it.' It was a mercy to himself, it was 
a blessing to the world, that it was hidden 
from him. How r greatly the world would 
be the loser, if men always knew what 
was in reserve for them ! How such knowl- 
edge would cool enthusiasm, quench cour- 
age, and relax the hand of enterprise ! 
And how it would precipitate coming 



100 MEMORIAL. 

sorrows, and ripen our griefs before the 
time, and multiply our pangs, and smite 
the soul with a very paralysis of terror, if 
we had ever before our eyes the vision of 
that suffering which the future will very 
likely make actual to us. Oh, who would 
rend the veil, and gaze upon the reality ? 
Who would pry open the lids of the sealed 
book ? Who would by anticipation taste 
beforehand the cup which is preparing for 
us in the hand of God, and which is to be 
put to our lips at the appointed hour ? 
We will labor and pray to be prepared for 
the cup, with whatever bitter ingredients it 
may be mingled, and strengthened for the 
appointed baptism, though it be as if all 
the billows were rolling over us. 

" It is an unspeakable comfort that God 
knows the future, and appoints it. Noth- 
ing can take him by surprise. He foresees 
everything, orders everything. How dismal 
if it were not so ; if we were forced to think 
ourselves the sport of blind chance, or help- 
lessly bound to the iron car of cold unintel- 
ligent laws ! What a blessed comfort, on 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 101 

the contrary, to know that the actual ruling 
Intelligence is the God of our Bible and 
our Christianity; a Being by whom all 
prosperity is skilfully adjusted to the best 
interests of the whole, and — what is more 
to our purpose — a Being by whom all ad- 
versity is not only adjusted to the best in- 
terests of the whole, including the sufferer 
himself, but tenderly adjusted to that 
sufferer's weakness. ' He knoweth our 
frame ; he remembereth that we are dust.' 
And what I want you to think of now is, 
that he always knew it ; and to feel what 
a sweetness there is in this reflection, that 
whatever burden is now pressing heavily 
upon you, or whatever trial is in store for 
you, has been from all eternity a matter of 
deliberation in God's mind, and lying 
through all those ages upon his kind, pa- 
ternal heart. And if there is something 
solemn, almost fearful, in this deliberate 
eternal purpose, there is great comfort in it 
too ; for a policy so long considered by a 
Being of such infinite wisdom must be a 
wise, must be the best policy 



102 MEMORIAL. 

He who loveth his children with an un- 
speakable tenderness knows all their trials, 
and has always known them ; for he or- 
dered them, and has had all that time to 
adjust the keenness of the blast to the 

weakness of the lamb 

" Our ignorance of the future should 
teach us our dependence upon God. . . . 
It is right, it is eminently wise, to form 
plans reaching far into the future, and re- 
quiring many years for their fulfilment, — 
provided they have a reference to the will 
and honor of God, and to the good of our 
fellow-men. The man who, in the forma- 
tion and execution of his plans of life, is 
seeking to conspire with the will of God, 
is sure to succeed. His expectations will 
not perish, for the will of the Lord is sure 
to be accomplished. Full success may 
not come during his brief lifetime. But 
the plans of such a man stretch beyond 
this life ; and when he dies he bequeaths 
them to those of like spirit, and these labor 
upon them, and carry them still farther 
toward completion. Indeed, the plans of 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 103 

such a man are, by the very supposition, 

not his plans, but God's 

. . . . " There are great truths in re- 
spect to which to-morrow shall be as to-day. 
God is the same yesterday, to-day, and for- 
ever Sin is the same hateful thing to-day 
as when it was first conceived ; it will al- 
ways be hateful. God's hostility to sin will 
ever be the same, — never diminished. Yes, 
my hearers, from to-day on through the 
future, even to the day of judgment, these 
things are the same, and we may know 
them. Happy are we, if we rightly im- 
prove this knowledge. Then may we 
know and be persuaded, that He whom 
we love and serve will keep our souls unto 
that day, and crown us with eternal glory 
in heaven." 

In August, he was suddenly and severely 
ill. He said : " I am certain that I have 
some serious internal disease. My life is 
nearly gone. I have seen my best days, 
and shall soon be in my grave." He ex- 



104 MEMORIAL. 

pressed earnest desires for life. " I should 
like to live if the Lord has more work for 
me to do." 

Rev. Levi Field, an intimate friend of 
Mr. Little, and his classmate at Andover 
Theological Seminary, died in October, 
1859. It was the first death in that class. 

In a letter dated December 3, 1859, Mr. 
Little says to a mutual friend, also a class- 
mate : — 

u Which of our little band will go 
next ? I confess I think of Field almost 
with a feeling of envy ; partly, I suppose, 
from the effects of ill-health, but partly 
too, I hope, from the working of the good 
Spirit of God. I contemplate with more 
and more satisfaction the fulfilment of 
that sweet promise of our Lord, John xiv. 
3, and follow with hearty congratulations 
those who die in the faith. To be clean 
escaped from the corruptions and weari- 
some crucial experiences of this world, — to 
be present with the Lord and like him, 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 105 

with such companions and such employ- 
ments as heaven will furnish, — is it not 
to be longed for ? 

' Oh, glorious hour ! oh, blest abode ! ' 

But it is good to labor, and suffer, and 
strive to honor the Master here below, and 
to persuade men to be reconciled to God." 

December 17, he wrote : — 

" Oh for twenty years of robust health, 
a distinct, God-commissioned work, and a 
springing, tireless enthusiasm! And yet, 
what would the world, or the church, or the 
cause of truth gain by it ? This is the ques- 
tion which often brings me to my bearings, 
and quells the tumult of my desire for health. 
My health, or my life, appears to me less 
and less important as affecting the current 
of the world's affairs and the great cause 
of the Redeemer. God, I hope, does 
sometimes hear my prayers and cries, and 
has given me something better than health, 
— the sweet inward pledge, if I am not 



106 MEMORIAL. 

deceived, that I am his child. My heavenly 
Father has faithfully done his part toward 
thoroughly teaching me the religious uses 
and advantages of disappointment." 

Again he said : — 

" My earthly future is unpromising and 
cheerless enough to a man of any literary 
taste, or scholarly aspiration, or ambition 
for efficiency and achievement. If, as seems 
probable, I must only ' stand and wait,' and 
if so I can serve my God and honor him 
whom I adore above every other name, I 
trust through grace I shall be content." 

Throughout this period, Mr. Little's con- 
versation indicated a frequent contempla- 
tion of things above. " My thoughts," he 
said, " are much upon going to my heav- 
enly home." Incidents, not much noticed 
at the time, are remembered now, which 
show this tendency of his mind. One 
day, when a friend, who was ever thought- 
ful in attentions to his pastor, had done 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 107 

him a kindness, Mr. Little said, in his own 
pleasant way, " We'll talk of it when we 
get to heaven." 

On the last Sabbath evening in August^ 
as he sat near the window and watched 
the going down of the sun, he proposed 
that we should sing the hymn, — 

"Nearer, my God, to thee. 1 ' * 

As we were about commencing the last 
verse, he said, " Sing faster now ; " and 
then, with energy of expression, his voice, 
before weak and tremulous, rose into a 
clear, sweet tenor, as we sang the inspir- 
ing words : — 

"Or, if on joyful wing, 

Cleaving the sky, 
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, 

Upward I fly, 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to thee, 

Nearer to thee." 

* " Sabbath Hymn Book," hymn 90S. 



108 MEMORIAL. 

The Sabbath Hymn Book became the 
constant companion of his devotions. He 
often sat in his arm-chair in the study, 
with the volume open before him, and his 
eyes closed. Some months after, he said, 
" This book has been the means of great 
good to me." 

Alluding to his recent illness, he wrote 
thus, November 11, 1859 : — 

" In the worst stage of my bodily health, 
I was not unhappy ; but, on the contrary, 
was never less agitated about myself ; never 
more willing, I think, to lie quietly in the 
hands of God ; never had a livelier sense of 
the reality and sweetness of the personal rela- 
tion that subsists between Jesus and his dis- 
ciples. It is more and more my aim to repro- 
duce in my own religious history that kind 
of intercourse with the blessed Lord Jesus 
which the evangelists have so beautifully re- 
corded, and which I believe to be no less our 
privilege than that of the first disciples, — 
simple, childlike, unconstrained, and yet 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 109 

most certainly meek and reverential. I con- 
fess that, for myself, I know of no more ex- 
cellent way by which a Christian may gain 
the utmost of comfort, strength, and purity." 

As the winter advanced, Mr. Little be- 
came extremely sensitive to the cold. He 
was always hoarse after preaching, and 
sometimes coughed. He one day put his 
hand upon his chest, saying, " I think I 
shall have consumption. I believe there 
are indications that my lungs are diseased." 

He was advised to travel in Europe ; and 
his mind was much engaged upon plans 
which for years he had entertained, in hope 
of making such a tour. 

On Friday evening, December 30, he 
preached the sermon preparatory to the sa- 
crament of the Lord's Supper, which was 
to be administered on the next Sabbath. 
His discourse was from Colossians iii. 1, 2, 
— " If ye then be risen with Christ, seek 
those things which are above, where Christ 



110 MEMORIAL. 

sitteth on the right hand of God. Set 
your affection on things above, not on 
things on the earth. " 

This sermon was mostly extemporane- 
ous. His animation of manner and voice 
in speaking of "the society of heaven" 
as one of " those things " to be sought 
" above, " and the delight with which he 
uttered his own anticipations of it, cannot 
fail to be remembered by those who listened 
to his words. He repeated impressively 
the sublime passage in the twelfth chapter 
of Hebrews : — 

" But ye are come unto Mount Si on, and 
unto the city of the living God, the heaven- 
ly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable com- 
pany of angels. 

" To the general assembly and church of 
the first-born, which are written in heaven, 
and to God the Judge of all, and to the 
spirits of just men made perfect, 

" And to Jesus, the mediator of the new 
covenant." 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. Ill 

In concluding, he said : — 

" The instinct of the renewed soul is to 
seek those things which are above. Such a 
disposition is fitted to keep the soul always 
tranquil, hopeful, courageous. There is no 
such foundation for courage as this. It is 
more than all the world against us. Disap- 
pointment is impossible. Whatever we lose, 
there is always something left which far 
outweighs that which is gone. We can- 
not be impoverished. And, what is more, 
it will increase our moral power as Chris- 
tians. 

" But if we will not set our affections 
on heavenly things in time of prosperity, — 
if we will not heed the calls of God in the 
Scriptures, the many declarations of the 
emptiness of this world, — then, unless he 
will give us up to be filled with the fruit 
of our own devices, he will try another 
method. If we cannot or will not adjust 
the relations of both the heavenly and the 
earthly, then he will take away from us the 
earthly, that w T e may by stress of circum- 



112 MEMORIAL. 

stances, by the very necessity of the soul's 
having something to love and lean upon, 
seek as we ought the heavenly. Alas, 
that we should ever put God, our heavenly 
Father, to this alternative ! But when we 
do, blessed be his name that he will be 
faithful with us, and true to his covenant ; 
that he will smite, and will not stay his 
hand for our much crying. 

" As we are so soon to commence a new 
year, shall we not inquire whether, as the 
months and years roll on, we are conscious 
that the world is conquering us, or whether 
we are gaining greater and greater ascen- 
dency over the world ? — whether we are 
becoming more heavenly-minded? God 
grant that this may be true of us all ; for 
then, when He who is our life shall ap- 
pear, and we appear with him in glory, those 
things that have animated, strengthened, 
and delighted us here, though apprehended 
only by faith, shall be the themes of our 
eternal meditation and song." 

The following Sabbath was the first day 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 113 

of the year 1860. In the forenoon Mr. 
Little preached from Matthew xi. 15, — 
" He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." 

Referring to the ways by which God 
speaks to men, he said : — 

" My hearers, let no event of your life, 
no unforeseen change in your fortunes, be 
considered commonplace, meaningless, or 
limited to itself in importance. It has a 
deep and wide-reaching significancy. It 
is solemn, for God is in it. He speaks to 
you through it. 

" It invests the life and destiny of every 
man with an awful seriousness, to think 
that he is the object of a divine care and 
solicitude, — that the great God is ever near 
him, ever surrounding him with his person- 
al presence, ever in communication with 
him. And do you think that such a truth 
harmonizes well with an indifferent or friv- 
olous habit ? Is it not probable that God 
is speaking to us, through some event of 
our life, or inner experience of the soul, far 
oftener than we think ? And if he speaks 



1 14 MEMORIAL. 

to you, my friends, and you do not hear, 
if it be not your crime, it will be your 
calamity. If he speaks, it is always with 
a design, for he doeth nothing in vain. . . 

" How kind, then, and seasonable, are 
those admonitions of God, which are fitted 
to arouse men, and constrain them to 
attend to their dearest and most lasting 
interests ! . . . . 

" Such an admonition as that of the text 
is timely, because of the mode in which 
God oftenest speaks to men. It is not in 
a tone of thunder. It is oftener in a voice 
so small that a little inattention will miss 
it. 

" Finally, let me say that the time for 
hearing to any good purpose will soon be 
over. And does not this add urgency to 
the command of the text, and make it 
worth your while to regard and obey it ? 
In every mode of his communication with 
you, God calls you first of all to repent- 
ance, to a rational and godly life. Have 
you ever recognized this appeal ? Have 
you ever with all the heart responded to 



LAST TEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 115 

it ? If not, be warned in season. God 
still calls with gracious and fatherly accent. 
How long he will bear with you, if you 
refuse to hear, I know not. But this I 
know, for God hath so declared, that if 
men will not hear the words of admonition 
and the invitations of grace, they must 
hear the thunders of judgment and con- 
demnation." 

In the afternoon Mr. Little preached 
from Romans vi. 1, 2, — " What shall we 
say then ? Shall we continue in sin, that 
grace may abound ? God forbid : how 
shall we, that are dead to sin, live any 
longer therein ? " 

In conclusion, he said : — 

" We rejoice, my brethren, — do we 
not ? — in the doctrines of grace. And 
well we may. We do well to glory in 
this : that God does not require us to 
make expiation for our own sins, but has 
laid that awful burden upon another, 



116 MEMORIAL. 

even upon Jesus, the Son of his love. On 
this great central truth of all right theology 
we rest our souls. In hours of our trouble 
and anguish, we turn confidingly to this 
mighty Saviour, believing that if his love 
for us was equal to the willing endurance 
of the bitter cross, then will he be compas- 
sionate, and forward to deliver us from 
minor evils, or at least he will temper them 
with a sweet comfort. Thus does this 
view of God's method of grace cheer and 
strengthen us in life, and we expect that it 
will refresh our souls in death, giving us 
then a quiet peace, if not rapture and tri- 
umph. Oh, what shall we render unto 
God for his unspeakable gift ! and what 
tongue is competent to recount the num- 
ber, or express the richness, of those bless- 
ings which flow to us from that sacrifice ? " 

These were Mr. Little's last words from 
the pulpit. 

He returned to his study exhausted, and, 
after a long silence, remarked : " I have an 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 117 

impression that this will be an eventful 
year for us. I think that I shall either be 
in Europe or in heaven." 

But in the course of a few days he ap- 
peared to be in better health than for a 
long time previous. There was in all his 
movements an unwonted elasticity ; his 
mind acted with more than its ordinary 
alacrity, and his countenance was bright 
with the hope of returning vigor. 

Friday, January 6, was intensely cold ; 
yet he spent most of the day in walks 
about his parish, and visits to some afflict- 
ed persons. 

In the evening he attended the weekly 
prayer-meeting, and made remarks upon 
the first ten verses of the tenth chapter of 
Romans. He spoke of the utter hopeless- 
ness of the sinner's state if perfect obedi- 
ence should be the condition of salvation, 
and dwelt with joyful earnestness upon 
the freeness of the pardon granted to those 



118 MEMORIAL. 

who believe in Jesus. His appearance 
throughout was unusually animated. 

As he was about to close his eyes in 
sleep that night, he coughed violently, and 
a stream of blood poured from his mouth. 
He was entirely tranquil. As soon as he 
could speak, he said : — 

" I do not feel the least alarm. Once 
this would have filled me with agitation. 
This blood is from my lungs. I feel it; 
it comes from deep down, I have long 
been preparing for this." At intervals 
he said, " I have anticipated some sud- 
den, fatal development. It is good to 
be always ready. I shall never preach 
again, I think. You remember what I 
said to you last Sabbath afternoon, that 
I should this year be either in Europe or 
in heaven." 

It was proposed to send a neighbor for 
a physician ; but he replied, " No ; wait 
till morning;" at the same time express- 
ing his unwillingness to disturb others. 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 119 

He was awake most of the night, but sel- 
dom spoke. Once he exclaimed, the tears 
rolling down his cheeks, " The dear chil- 
dren ! " And again, " My poor sisters ! 
this will be dreadful to them." After a 
pause, he added, " My people will be ut- 
terly discouraged, to have had two pastors 
prostrated by the same disease." * 

Early in the morning, he said, " I want 
to see the dear children." As they stood 
weeping beside him, he kissed them, and 
told them that he was very sick, that per- 



* Kev. Joseph P. Drunimond was ordained over the church 
in West Newton, January 2, 1856. In less than a year the 
encroachments of a pulmonary disease compelled him to re- 
move to a milder climate. After one winter's residence in 
Aiken, S. C, he returned in the summer of 1857, to spend 
only a few months preliminary to his final departure. He 
died in the place of his nativity, Bristol, Me., November 23, 
1857, at the age of thirty-three. 

Mr. Drunimond and Mr. Little were classmates in college, 
and were together at Andover during a part of their theolog- 
ical course. 



120 MEMORIAL. 

haps he should die, and added, " You 
must love Jesus a great deal." 

His condition appeared so critical, that 
he was advised to refrain from conversa- 
tion, and not to speak above a whisper. 
He did not suffer pain, and often alluded 
to the goodness of God in permitting him 
to be so comfortable. " I have nothing to 
do," he said, " but to bless the Lord. Our 
trials are nothing at all compared with 
those of many persons." 

The comforts which Mr. Little enjoyed 
in his sickness quickened that delicate ap- 
preciation of the privations and sorrows 
of others for which he had always been 
remarkable. His ready sympathy, his 
cheering words, and generous aid, had ever 
made him a welcome visitor in the homes 
of the needy. To those who toiled in sol- 
itude for their daily bread, to the sick and 
afflicted, the aged especially, he had been 
a valued friend ; and now that he was 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 121 

himself upon the bed of languishing, he re- 
ceived the blessing promised to him that 
considereth the poor. 

Sabbath morning, January 8, the hem- 
orrhage returned. He asked to have the 
one hundred and thirtieth Psalm read, re- 
marking, " That's my Psalm." 

It was said to him, " It is sad to see you 
so feeble." 

" But this is life," he replied. " You 
must remember, ' that the trial of your 
faith, being much more precious than of 
gold that perisheth, though it be tried with 
fire, might be found unto praise, and honor 
and glory, at the appearing of Jesus 
Christ.' Perhaps this is the best way in 
which I can glorify God. If it is, I am 
willing to have \i so. This sickness has 
given me great courage. I have wanted 
some new test in my own case of the 
power of religion to sustain ; and now I am 
satisfied." 



122 MEMORIAL. 

When told that one of his favorite 
hymns had been sung by the congregation 
that day, his face lighted up as he said, 
" I wonder if they sang it well ; M and he 
was gratified on being assured that the 
singing would have been pleasant to him. 

He expressed a wish to write a few lines 
to " the dear Bangor friends." 

" But you are too weak ; some one else 
will do it for you." 

" No ; bring me a pencil and paper. I 
must write that note myself." 

With a trembling hand he wrote these 
words : — 

" I am strangely tranquil. I hope it is 
my religion that makes me so. I think it 
is. Christ is all and in all to me, not only 
theoretically, but I think also experiment- 
ally and consciously. 

" Please remember me in your prayers, 
and ask the dear brethren of that church 
we love so well to pray that, living or 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 12o 

dying, I may be prepared the more effect- 
ually to glorify God." 

Every morning he greeted his friends 
with a bright smile and affectionate words. 

January 9, he held the following conver- 
sation with one of his family : " I think I 
shall die in one of these attacks of bleed- 
ing. I have a feeling of suffocation. You 
may as well prepare for the worst." 

" You will think of us if you should go 
first." 

" Yes, indeed, — and the dear children ! 
I believe they will be converted. We 
shall all soon be in eternity. The time 
will be short at the longest." 

" What trials you have had, and how 
patient you are ! " 

" Oh, don't ! I have had very little to 
tiy my patience as yet. The margin has 
not begun to be filled up. I can bear this 
very well for a few days, but I fear that I 



124 MEMORIAL. 

shall grow impatient. I do not think I 
shall get well, because I think God sees 
that I should forget him if restored to 
health. But it is a very different thing to 
die one's self from what it is to see other 
people die." 

Some passages of Scripture were read 
to him. When he heard the words, " Who 
shall change our vile body, that it may be 
fashioned like unto his glorious body," he 
exclaimed, " Yes, that is a precious text. 
Will you read to me Baxter's beautiful 
hymn ? " 

"Lord, it belongs not to my care 
Whether I die or live ; 
To love and serve thee is my share, 
And this thy grace must give. 

" If life be long, I will be glad 
That I may long obey ; 
If short, yet why should I be sad 
To soar to endless day ? 

" Christ leads me through no darker rooms 
Than he went through before ; 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 125 



He that into God's kingdom conies, 
Must enter by this door. 

" Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 
Thy blessed face to see ; 
For, if thy work on earth be sweet, 
What will thy glory be ! 

" Then shall I end my sad complaints, 
And weary, sinful days, 
And join with all triumphant saints 
Who sing Jehovah's praise. 

" My knowledge of that life is small ; 
The eye of faith is dim ; 
But 't is enough that Christ knows all, 
And I shall be with him." 



" That is a sweet hymn," he said ; " my 
hymn. The last verse is very sweet." 

In the evening he whispered : " Blessed, 
blessed hope ! Blessed Saviour ! He will 
save us ; there is no reason to doubt it, — 
not the least. What condescension he 
showed to the poor Magdalene ! " 

January 12, in the latter part of the 
day, his symptoms indicated a return of 
bleeding. He lay quietly with closed eyes. 



126 MEMORIAL. 

At length he was heard to whisper : 
" O precious, glorious gospel ! — That 
great cloud of witnesses ! — How blessed 
a thing to be in full sympathy with them ! 
— a most animating thought." 

" They have all passed through the same 
struggle." 

" Yes, — most comforting thought ! " 

Soon he said, " I wish you would write 
to C for me." 

"What shall I say ? " 

" Give my love to dear C . Tell 

him I have felt for him in his affliction ; 
and I trust he finds abundant consolation 
in the Saviour's love, which in my trial I 
find more precious than ever." 

He then asked to hear the hymn : — 

" The pangs of death are near, 
Amid the joys of life: " * 

and also the one beginning, 

1 " Sabbath Hymn Book," hymn 1203. 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON 127 



u Oh, speak to me of Jesus ! — other names 
Have lost for me their interest now." l 



January 17, he said : " I wish I could 
tell you my thoughts about Christ." And 
again : " This has been a blessed sickness 
to me. I think the Lord is preparing me, 
either for increased usefulness, for great 
trouble, or for death. I think God may 
have something more for me to do here ; 
and, if so, I shall be very glad to do it. 
Oh, would it not be a glorious work of 
divine grace, if I could have a good heart 
in a sound body ? " 

" I remember, 95 says one, recently, " how 
beautifully he spoke in that illness, in 
January, of his mental conflicts, and of 
his confidence that God was 'preparing 
him for something, we did not know 
what.' " 

He often wished to hear the following 

1 " Sabbath Hymn Book," hymn 434. 



128 MEMORIAL. 

hymn, from the a Lyra Germanica," Second 
Series : — 



" Lord Jesus Christ, my life, my light, — 
My strength by day, my trust by night, — 
On earth I'm but a passing guest, 
And sorely with my sins oppressed. 

"Far off I see my fatherland, 
Where through thy grace I hope to stand ; 
But ere I reach that Paradise, 
A weary way before me lies. 

" My heart sinks at the journey's length ; 
My wasted flesh has little strength ; 
Only my soul still cries in me, 
Lord, fetch me home, take me to thee ! 

" Oh, let thy sufferings give me power 
To meet the last and darkest hour ; 
Thy prayer refresh and comfort me ; 
Thy bonds and fetters set me free ! 

" That thirst and bitter draught of thine 
Help me to bear with patience mine ; 
Thy piercing cry avail my soul 
When floods of anguish o'er me roll ! 

" And when my lips grow white and chill, 
Thy Spirit cry within me still, 
And help my soul thy heaven to find 
When these poor eyes grow dark and blind! 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 129 

" And when the spirit flies away, 
Thy parting words shall be my stay, — 
Thy cross the staff whereon I lean, 
My couch the grave where thou hast been. 

" Since thou hast died, the Pure, the Just, 
I take my homeward way in trust ; 
The gates of heaven, Lord, open wide, 
"When here I may no more abide. 

" And when the last great day is come, 
And thou, our Judge, shalt speak the doom, 
Let me with joy behold the light, 
And set me then upon thy right. 

" Renew this wasted flesh of mine, 
That like the sun it there may shine 
Among the angels pure and bright, — 
Yea, like thyself, in glorious light. 

" Ah, then I have my heart's desire 
When singing with the angels' choir, 
Among the ransomed of thy grace, 
Forever I behold thv face ! " 



This hymn he committed to memory, 
and always spoke of it as " my German 
hymn," or " my dear old German hymn." 

Mr. Little was urgently advised to seek 
a change of climate, as the most hopeful 



130 MEMORIAL. 

means of regaining health. Notwithstand- 
ing all the premonitions of long-continued 
illness which he had while prostrated by 
the first indications of disease in his lungs, 
he did not escape the illusive influence of 
that disease. As he began to regain a 
degree of elasticity, he was disposed to 
think that he should soon be able to de- 
rive benefit from a sojourn in the south 
of Europe. For a time he allowed him- 
self to form plans for making this tour in 
company with Mrs. Little, or, if not with 
her, with an intimate friend. But his 
own wishes and those of his family were 
mysteriously overruled. Circumstances, 
which need not be here detailed, com 
pelled him to the conclusion that, if he 
went, he must go unattended. The words 
of a consulting physician in Boston, 
" Better go alone than not to go at all," 
and " I do not consider it necessary that 
Mr. Little should have a travelling-corn- 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 131 

panion," had, as it now seems, undue in- 
fluence, and his decision was taken. 

Early in February he wrote to a friend : — 

" On Saturday, for the first time in four 
weeks, I sat down to dinner with the fam- 
ily: a blessed privilege, for which we 
heartily thanked God, and ate our meat 
with special gladness. At the same time 
I have many a feeling that all is not 
right, and that the silver cord may be 
snapped at any moment. ... I do 
not wonder that you wonder how I am 
going to Europe. As to a companion, 
my wife's going is entirely out of the 
question. It is most likely, from present 
appearances, that for a companion I shall 
have to content myself with One who 
said, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto 
the end of the world.' .... Were 
it not for that sweet promise, and such 
precious words as Psalm cxxxix. 9, 10, — 
6 If I take the wings of the morning and 
dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea ; 



132 MEMORIAL. 

even there shall thy hand lead me, and 
thy right hand shall hold me,' — were it 
not for the hope which my physicians 
encourage me to entertain, that I may 
come back with a strength to which I 
have long been a stranger, — a strength 
which I am sure I mean to consecrate to 
my Saviour, — I could not, I would not, 
take a step in this direction." 

In the same letter he thus alludes to 
the bereavement of a mutual friend : — 

" I commend her to that adorable, ten- 
der, and almighty Lord, who is more will- 
ing to bind up than to bruise. These 
trials, deaths, bereavements, are among 
the methods by which God will make 
our release easy, increasing the attractions 
of heaven, and loosing the earth's hold 
upon us." 

To a member of his church, who was 
afflicted by the death of a brother, Mr. 
Little wrote, February 8 : — 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 133 

" Be assured I have not forgotten you in 
these days of your trial. It has been a real 
grief to me that I could not offer you the ser- 
vices which, if I were well, you could so rea- 
sonably have expected from me, and which 
I should have been so glad to render. 
In this disappointment, my chief comfort 
has been the same which I doubt not has 
been and will be your consolation and 
support, — the assurance that our trials are 
the appointment of One who is infinitely 
wise and infinitely compassionate.. How 
much better to have our affairs managed 
by such a Father in heaven, than to have 
the responsibility placed upon our own 
shoulders ! If God were to offer to give 
up the control of our destiny to our short 
sight and poor wisdom, who would not 
quickly give it back into his hands ? I 
am sure I would. Steadily and kindly 
and wisely is he preparing us for our 
transfer from his kingdom on earth to his 
kingdom and our everlasting home in 
heaven. One of his methods of securing 
this preparation is by removing to that 



134 MEMORIAL. 

heavenly home those we have loved here, 
with whom the hope of being reunited 
will make our own death the easier 
May we so live as to be abundantly 
fitted for a blessed reunion with all the 
elect, who, with robes made white in the 
blood of the Lamb, shall sing and shine 
in the presence of God forever. Hoping 
soon to be able to see you, believe me 
your sincere friend." 

February 10, he wrote to one whose 
constant efforts to cheer him had touched 
his heart : — 

" God bless you for your last letter. 
You do not know what a comfort it was 
to me, and what a burden it took from my 
poor, weak, faithless spirit. I am ' a fool 
and slow of heart to believe ' that, if God 
bring one to the borders of the Red Sea, 
he will make a safe passage through. 
Your friendship for me is a constant mar- 
vel. I shall not worry myself, however, 
with efforts to explain it. As with the 



LAST YEAR IN WEST NEWTON. 135 

mysteries of our blessed religion, I am 
content with an assurance of the fact. I 
hope you know that I not only prize your 
love, but heartily reciprocate it." 

To a friend in New York he wrote, 
February 14 : — 

" God has dealt rigorously with me, and 
yet I believe I can truly say that for 
nothing do I thank him more heartily than 
for his chastisements. ... I have not 
been without literary ambition. To de- 
serve and gain a respectable place among 
the ' goodly fellowship ' of scholars was the 
dear hope of my youth. But my plans for 
study God has repeatedly shivered into 
fragments, and given me the tears of dis- 
appointment for my meat day and night. 
It is humiliating to think that my per- 
verse and wicked heart needed such a 
trial. It will be more humiliating if I fail 
to heed and improve it." 

Mr. Little was unwilling to leave his 



136 MEMORIAL. 

people at West Newton exposed to the 
disadvantages which they might experi- 
ence from the long absence of a pastor, 
and he felt it incumbent on him to resign 
his office. This he did in a letter which was 
presented to his church and society on the 
third Sabbath in February. He was, how- 
ever, induced to withdraw the resignation. 
A clergyman who called upon Mr. Lit- 
tle, February 23, wrote to a mutual 
friend : — 

" I cannot tell you how he seems, except 
that he seems both weak and strong. The 
old fire is there, but it burns low. His spirit 
will not have to brook that confinement 
many years, I fully believe." 

To a sister Mr. Little wrote, February 
24: — 

" It is an unspeakable comfort to me 
that I am in God's hands, and that he will 
order my steps. After a few years more 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 137 

of this troubled and mysterious life, the 
blessed Saviour will come for us. Till then 
let it be our aim to serve him faithfully. 
Beyond this we need have no anxiety." 

Mr. Little was to sail from New York 
on Saturday, March 3, in the steamer Ara- 
go, for Havre. The morning of Thursday, 
the day when he was to leave West New- 
ton, was made cheerless by a cold storm. 
As he took his seat at the breakfast-table, 

he said, with a smile, " Well, M , dear, 

the Lord reigns." To a question from one 
of his children, he replied, " Just as God 
pleases, dear." During the family devo- 
tions he w T as deeply moved. Intense feel- 
ing made him paler than usual. He asked 
to have the ninety-first Psalm read, and 
then breathed forth a childlike surrender 
of himself, his family, and people into the 
hands of God. His last care at West 
Newton was to finish some letters to indi- 
viduals in his parish, for whose religious 



138 MEMORIAL. 

welfare he felt an especial solicitude. To 
one of them, who was by his influence led 
to the Saviour, Mr. Little said : — 

" I have not strength to write much. I 
may never speak to you, nor see you again 
on earth. It will not be long before we are 
all sleeping in our graves. Then will come 
the great test and judgment. Then it will 
clearly appear who have been wise, and 

who foolish. Suffer me, dear E , to 

warn and entreat you to live for that day 
and for eternity, and let nothing rob you 
of the life everlasting." 

As his trunk was about to be closed, he 
was asked if he wished to take the Sabbath 
Hymn Book. " Yes," he replied ; " I can- 
not do without that." Before he drove 
away from the house, a friend uttered the 
exclamation, " How can I endure to have 
you go to Europe alone ? " " But," he 
replied, " I shall not go alone. You know 
who said, ' Lo, I am with you alway.' ?: 



IfrnjirgB in /raittt, writ Etta. 

The first day of his journey Mr. Little 
"went as far as Springfield, and remained 
there until the noon of Friday. In the 
morning he spent some hours with Rev. 
James Drummond, the brother of his 
immediate predecessor at West Newton. 
This gentleman writes of the interview : — 

" We talked but little directly of religious 
matters, and yet I recall many sweet ex- 
pressions of submission to the will of the 
great Master. Those hours are among 
my precious memories. It was only a 
rich, affectionate, and tender nature that 
could so strongly affect me in so brief a 
time." 

Mr. Little reached New York on Friday 

(139) 



140 MEMORIAL. 

afternoon. " How well I have borne this 
journey ! " he said. " It is because the Lord 
has helped me. I am sure it is God's grace 
alone which supports me." After his re- 
turn from France, he remarked, " How 
wonderfully I was sustained and cheered 
in that journey to New York ! " 

In the morning, after a sad and wakeful 
night, he said, " Please read to me the 
fourteenth chapter of John." He then of- 
fered prayer. When he prayed for his 
children, his voice became choked with 
sobs, and for some moments he could not 
speak. Afterward he prayed for himself : 
" Be with thy servant, who goes forth alone 
into this exile. Sustain him in this bitter 
separation. Fulfil unto him, blessed Sav- 
iour, thine own promise, ' Lo, I am with 
you alway, even unto the end of the 
world.' " 

Before going on board the steamer, he 
said, " My going to Europe is like entering 



141 

the kingdom of heaven, — ' through much 
tribulation.' I little thought that such an 
experience was the way in which Provi- 
dence would open the door. 5 ' 

To a relative he remarked : " My long- 
cherished desire is about to be accom- 
plished; but I have been brought to it 

through great sufferings I have 

been near the gates of death, but I have 
been kept in perfect peace." 

In his only letter written on board the 
Arago, he says : — 

w When we were fairly adrift, I began 
to feel the loneliness of my situation. Al- 
most every one but myself seemed to have 
some companion. I was not long, how- 
ever, in recollecting that a dearer than 
any earthly friend was nearer to me at 
that moment than any other being could 
be." 

Of his first Sabbath at sea he wrote : — 



142 MEMORIAL. 

" I spent most of the day in my room, 
reading in my precious copy of the Testa- 
ment and Psalms, and in 4 The Young 
Cottager ; ' thinking of the dear ones at 
home, and committing myself and them to 
our dear Saviour. My Testament lies on 
the same little shelf with the pictures. 
They will all grow more precious to me 

every day during my absence Oh, 

the sweet influences and precious associa- 
tions of a Christian home ! Thank God for 
mine ! May I again know its blessedness." 

In his diary he wrote : — 

" March 7. — My great solace is to think 
of my dear family whom I have left be- 
hind me, and of my blessed Saviour. 

" March 11. Sabbath. — ' This is the 
day the Lord hath made.' May he help 
me to ' rejoice in it and be glad.' My heart 
aches for the poor people on board, who 
are living with such low and inadequate 
aims I had some refreshing con- 
versation this evening with Mr. L , as 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AKD RETURN. 143 

we sat on deck watching the waters bril- 
liant with phosphorescence 

u March 17. — Arrived off Havre near 
daybreak. 

" March 19. — Paris. 

"March 25. Sabbath. — I fear I shall 
not get to the American Chapel. I long 
to hear the blessed gospel in my dear na- 
tive tongue. 

" March 26. — I went to the church of 
St. Roch this morning, and to Notre Dame 
this noon. It was the festival of the An- 
nunciation. I heard Mozart's Mass per- 
formed by four hundred artists, vocal and 
instrumental. The mass was preceded by 
a religious march, with an accompaniment 
of harps. It was delicious.*' 

March 27, Mr. Little wrote to friends at 
home : — 

" I have been very desolate since I 
reached Paris. The weather has been 
wretched, sunshine and rain alternating 
suddenly. I have indulged moderately m 



144 MEMORIAL. 

sight-seeing, yet what I have done has 
been too much for my poor strength. 

" Oh, I cannot tell you what I have suf- 
fered the past week ! At times I have been 
ready to throw myself down in despair, 
and to cry, My God, my God ! why hast 
thou forsaken me? On the whole, how- 
ever, I believe I have not positively mur- 
mured, nor lost outright my hold on God's 
precious covenant." 

The overwhelming sense of loneliness 
from which he suffered at this time in- 
duced him to make some exertions beyond 
his strength. He one day accepted an 
invitation to take a ride for the purpose of 
witnessing a military review. The scene 
is described in the following letter : — 

" April 4. — Although I am far from 
being strong, and in a condition to see and 
improve the thousand attractive things 
that lie temptingly around me, I feel 



145 

already better acquainted with this city 
than I do with New York. 

" On Saturday I went with Mr. P— — 
to witness a review of cavalry by the em- 
peror. The field where they went through 
their evolutions is called Longchamps, and 
is at the further extremity of the beautiful 
Bois de Boulogne. It was a division 
of cavalry belonging to the first corps 
cParmee, and under the command of Gen- 
eral d'Allonville. We did not reach the 
gound in season to witness the arrival of 
the emperor ; but I had the good fortune 
to see him quite near, just before he left 
for the city at the close of the review. It 
was a most animating and imposing spec- 
tacle, and one which I had always desired 
to see. True, the number of the troops 
was a mere handful compared with the 
number sometimes reviewed in the Champ 
de Mars. But they were all cavalry, finely 
mounted, richly caparisoned and uniformed. 
As they stood in long lines, or moved ma- 
jestically in dense columns, or wheeled at 

full gallop in their various evolutions, with 

10 



146 MEMORIAL. 

the shouting of the officers, and cries of 
vive VEmpereur ! — it was magnificent 
and thrilling. Besides, I knew they were 
no holiday troops, but were fellows who 
had smelt gunpowder, and were likely to 
again. If the day had been bright and 
sunny, the sight would have been brilliant 
beyond description. 

" There were three court carriages with- 
in the lines ; one containing the empress 
and a lady attendant, one the little prince 
imperial with nurse and governess, and 
the third containing two ladies whose 
names and rank I could not learn. We 
soon discovered the empress. At the mo- 
ment we edged our way in front of her car- 
riage, General Fleury came up, probably 
with some message from the emperor, and 
chatted awhile with her imperial ladyship. 
This gave me a good opportunity to see 
her face in movement, as well as in repose. 
She is very pretty, and looks much young- 
er than I had expected; indeed, almost 
girlish. 

" Our attention was soon attracted to 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 147 

that part of the field in which we knew 
the emperor to be. A large number of 
officers rode toward the imperial carriages. 
One of them, in a marshal's uniform, and 
mounted on a sorrel horse, advanced to 
the carriage of the empress, leaned over 
and spoke a few gracious words to her, his 
head all the while covered. It was the em- 
peror. A moment after and he had wheeled 
away, and was galloping with his suite 
and escort toward the city. His ordinary 
expression is somewhat dull, sleepy, ab- 
stracted ; but I saw him wdth a smile upon 
his face." 

In closing this letter, Mr. Little wrote : — 

" The Lord is trying my faith as never 
before. I hope it may not fail. Truly, 
his ways are past finding out. Did he not 
bring me here ? What will he do with 
me ? My future never seemed more 
shrouded than now in mystery and dark- 
ness. But my future is a thing of compar- 
atively little importance. We are sure that 



148 MEMORIAL. 

God will be honored, his purposes will be 
accomplished, and the kingdom will come. 

" Our blessed heavenly Father has led 
me into the orbit of some excellent people 
who are very kind to me. God is good to 
me even now and here in this strange 
land. I will not forget that; and withal, 
he gives me the sweet hope of a blessed 
and eternal reunion in the home prepared 
for all disciples." 

We find in his diary a few more brief 
pencillings : — 

" April 8. — Comforted this morning by 
Psalms xliii. — xlvi., and by my precious 
hymn, ' Lord Jesus Christ, my Life, my 
Light.' I found strength in committing 
my way unto the Lord. 

" April 9. — About midnight I coughed 
and raised blood. 

" April 12. — ' With God all things are 
possible.' Oh for grace to leave my poor 
self altogether and forever in his hands ! 

" April 13. — About eleven o'clock this 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 149 

morning a column of troops passed, — 
some four or five hundred foot, and one 
hundred horse in rear. The band not 
large, but playing superbly. Last night I 
was more comfortable. God be praised 
for every mercy. 

" April 14. — I have been tempted to 
distrust God and look no more to him. 
He seemed to have deserted me. 

" April 18. — I am trying resolutely to 
be hopeful. God can do all things ; and 
sometimes his doing is marvellous in our 
eyes. 

" April 19. — I raised blood again last 
evening. Oh, how I need the blessed 
Saviour ! I do hope he is near me, and 
that he feels my pains. Oh for that suffi- 
cient grace which will enable me always 
to say, ' Thy will be done V 

" April 20. — I am considerably better 
to-day. I have no great hopes and no 
very anxious fears. I have committed 
my case to the great Physician. 

" April 21. — Dr. has examined me 

thoroughly. He says that < all is well and 



150 MEMORIAL. 

natural.' He also prescribed for me. Oh, 
if God will add his blessing ! 

" April 25. — I do not see my blessed 
Saviour as I would like, nor feel his sweet 
presence. I hope it is the effect of my dis- 
ease. God help me to believe and trust 
where I cannot see. 

" April 26. — God pity and help me ! 

"April 27. — The blessed Lord God 
whom I serve will order everything for the 
best. Oh for grace and strength equal to 
the demands of each of these trying days 
and nights ! Lord, help or I sink ! " 

April 28, Mr. Little wrote to a friend 
then in Italy : — 

" I have had a strange experience since 
you left Paris, — growing weaker and 
weaker. It is my chief comfort that God 
has ordered it ; and ' as for God, his way 
is perfect.' " 

In a letter dated April 29, the irregular 
writing of which betrays a trembling hand, 
the lonely sufferer says : — 






AND RETURN. 151 

" Do I not need the arm of the Lord 
Jesus underneath me, and the strength and 
solace of the blessed gospel ? I trust I 
have gained new and invaluable proofs of 
its preciousness. As I have lain in my 
bed, feeble and alone, denied so complete- 
ly the enjoyments of foreign travel, and 
have looked out upon the magnificent 
palace of the Louvre, I have been sure of 
gaining one advantage : the persuasion, so 
deep that no sophistry will ever remove it, 
that, as compared with some single verse 
of the blessed Bible, all that stateliness of 
architecture, with the treasures of art with- 
in its walls, and the political power which 
it symbolizes, is a mockery to the soul in 
its greatest exigencies. 

" I should like to tell you more of my 
thoughts during these wearisome days and 
nights and weeks. But I cannot. You 
must tell all who may be expecting letters 
from me, that I cannot write to them yet. 
I send my affectionate and Christian salu- 
tations to the dear people at "West New- 
ton. Tell them that I am cast down, but 



152 MEMORIAL. 

not destroyed ; able, I hope, to rejoice even 
in tribulation, and glorying more and more 
in the cross of Jesus Christ, and only in 
that. It is a sweet reflection to me, in my 
suffering, that they are praying for me. I 
send much love to Bangor friends. Their 
kindness touches my heart. 

" The darling children ! My eyes are 

full every time I think of them 

Give my love to dear and . It 

sometimes thrills me with a joy unspeaka- 
ble, to think that so many of us are bound 
up together in the everlasting covenant, 
sure of a blessed home at last, eternal in 
the heavens." 

" April 30. — The P family left to- 

day for Havre, on their return to America. 
The Lord bless and keep them ! .... I 
have had sweet thoughts, for several days, 
of the covenant love of God in chastis- 
ing his children. I never saw so clearly the 
force and beauty of Hebrews xii. 5 - 11." 

A member of the family, to whom Mr. 
Little alludes above, writes : — 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 153 

H As I went into his room one day, he 
said : ' It is a strange Providence that 
brought me here. I have been in Paris six 
weeks, and it has been the most miserable 
six weeks of my life. The twelfth chapter 
of Hebrews has had of late a new mean- 
ing to me.' He repeated from the fourth 
to the twelfth verse, dwelling particularly 
on the sixth, seventh, and eighth verses. 
He added : ' My Father sees there is dross 
in my character, which it is necessary 
should be purged ; and therefore it is that 
I am thus disciplined.' 

" Mr. Little seemed to regret that he had 
come, especially that he had come alone ; 
and yet he was apparently cheerful. One 
of the first times he came to dine with us 
he brought the likenesses of his family, 
and looked at and talked of them. In his 
own room he kept these pictures upon the 
table beside him, and whenever he ate his 
meals they were opened and placed around 
the table. 

" I hope I have not given you a sad im- 
pression of his appearance at this time. 



154 MEMORIAL. 

He recognized the hand of a kind Father 
in his affliction, and I never heard him 
utter a hasty or complaining word." 

Rev. A. H. Clapp, of Providence, R. L, 

writes : — 

" It was most touching and impressive 
to hear his expressions of attachment to 
his Bible and Sabbath Hymn Book, — 
always by his pillow. In these and in 
prayer he said he had found new comfort 
and delight, much as he supposed he had 
before understood and appreciated them. 

" He was sad at the thought of having 
effected * so little, — nothing for Christ.' 
But at our last interview he seemed much 
more willing to leave his work and his 
family ; indeed, in every way more recon- 
ciled to what he now felt to be the divine 
purpose concerning him." 

May 4, Mr. Little marked in the one 
hundred and second Psalm the following 
passages : — 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 155 

" Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my 
cry come unto thee. 

" Hide not thy face from me in the day 
when I am in trouble ; incline thine ear 
unto me : in the day when I call, answer 
me speedily. 

u For my days are consumed like smoke, 
and my bones are burned as an hearth. 

" My heart is smitten, and withered 
like grass ; so that I forget to eat my 
bread. 

" By reason of the voice of my groan- 
ing, my bones cleave to my skin. 

" I am like a pelican of the wilderness : 
I am like an owl of the desert. 

" I watch, and am as a sparrow alone 
upon the house-top 

" For I have eaten ashes like bread, 
and mingled my drink with weeping. 

" Because of thine indignation and thy 
wrath : for thou hast lifted me up, and 
cast me down." 

" My days are like a shadow that de- 
clineth ; and I am withered like grass. 

" But thou, O Lord, shalt endure for- 



156 MEMORIAL. 

ever ; and thy remembrance unto all gen- 
erations. 

" He weakened my strength in the way ; 
he shortened my days. 

" I said, O my God, take me not away 
in the midst of my days : thy years are 
throughout all generations." 

And the following in the one hundred 
and third Psalm : — 

" For as the heaven is high above the 
earth, so great is his mercy toward them 
that fear him. 

" As far as the east is from the west, so 
far hath he removed our transgressions 
from us. 

" Like as a father pitieth his children, so 
the Lord pitieth them that fear him. 

" For he knoweth our frame ; he remem- 
bereth that we are dust. 

" As for man, his days are as grass : as 
a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. 

" For the wind passeth over it, and it is 
gone ; and the place thereof shall know it 
no more. 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 157 

" But the mercy of the Lord is from 
everlasting to everlasting upon them that 
fear him, and his righteousness unto chil- 
dren's children ; 

" To such as keep his covenant 3 and to 
those that remember his commandments to 
do them." 

Mrs. Little reached Paris May 5. Mr. 
Little was found lying upon a lounge be- 
fore the open fire, his countenance and 
form much changed by disease. In the 
course of that evening he said : — 

" I have been distressed with fears that 
something might prevent you from coming. 
When I was ill with those attacks of bleed- 
ing, and thought I might die soon, I felt 
that it would be so sweet to have you here 
to close my eyes. But God has been very 
gracious in raising up friends for me w r ho 
have been an inexpressible comfort. I 
cannot begin to tell you of all their kind- 
nesses. ... I cannot give you any idea 
of what I have endured ; and I am glad 



158 MEMORIAL. 

that I cannot. I have wept rivers of tears 
since I came to Paris. . . . You did not 
expect to find me so very feeble ; but I 
think I shall soon be well enough to go to 
Switzerland." 

Monday, May 7, Mr. Little went to 
apartments in the vicinity of the Champs 
Elysees. He hoped to be often in the 
open air, but the weather was most of the 
time unfavorable. Nearly every morning 
came with clouds and rain, or, if the day 
promised to be sunny, the invalid was dis- 
heartened by its quick overshadowing. 

A few times he walked a short distance 
with the feeble step of an aged person. 
Twice only was he able to reach the grand 
avenue near by. His walks became con- 
stantly shorter, until they were given up 
altogether. In compliance with the in- 
junction of his physicians, he rode fre- 
quently ; but his rides were often made 
dreary by the rain, and the motion of the 
carriage distressed him. 



159 

Incessant noise in the street deprived 
him of the quiet which he desired. Still, 
he never spoke complainingly of this trial. 
The continuance of it upon the Sabbath 
was a grief to him. He said : " There is 
no Sabbath here. The best Christian in 
the world cannot live in Paris without feel- 
ing the evil effects of this dreadful des- 
ecration." 

Sabbath, May 13, he said : " Get the 
precious Bible and read to me." After- 
ward he wished to have hymns read from 
the Sabbath Hymn Book. Then, too 
weak to kneel, he prayed for " strength to 
suffer ; " for " recovery, if it should please 
God," and a return to his " dear country 
and friends." He closed his petitions by 
rendering hearty thanks to God for the 
mercies he had received in a foreign land. 

His sleep was always disturbed, but he 
said : " It is such a relief that I am not 
now obliged to go through these nights 



160 MEMORIAL. 

alone." He seldom retired until a late 
hour. When urged to go sooner, he would 
reply : " No ; the night will be quite long 
enough." He often asked to have the 
Bible read to him in his wakeful hours. 
Many passages from Isaiah were very 
soothing to him. Some of them are the 
following : — 

" Thine eyes shall see the King in his 
beauty : they shall behold the land that is 
very far off. . . . The inhabitant shall 
not say I am sick : the people that dwell 
therein shall be forgiven their iniquity." 

" Say to them that are of a fearful heart, 
Be strong, fear not." 

" He giveth power to the faint, and to 
them that have no might he increaseth 
strength." 

" I am the Lord thy God, which teach- 
eth thee to profit, which leadeth thee by 
the way that thou shouldest go." 

" Surely he hath borne our griefs, and 
carried our sorrows." 

•■ O thou afflicted, tossed with tempest, 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 161 

and not comforted ! behold, I will lay thy 
stones with fair colors, and lay thy founda- 
tions with sapphires." 

u Behold, for p'eace I had great bitter- 
ness : but thou hast in love to my soul 
delivered it from the pit of corruption : for 
thou hast cast all my sins behind thy 
back." * 

The last clause of this verse he often 
asked to have repeated to him several 
times. He said : " It is so expressive of 
God's entire forgiveness." He was deeply 
impressed with the passage : " As one 
whom his mother comforteth, so will I 
comfort you, and ye shall be comforted in 
Jerusalem." He would say : " That is 
sweet, — that is precious, — that is very 
beautiful. The Scriptures seem to exhaust 
language to express the tenderness of 
God's love." 

Shut up as Mr. Little was, most of the 

11 



162 MEMORIAL. 

day, within doors, unable to hear much 
reading, and conscious of the advancement 
of disease, it was not strange that his de- 
jection increased. " Yes," he said, with 
emotion, " I am fast preparing for my 
grave." And again : " I am glad my dear 
mother is safe in heaven ; this^would have 
broken her heart." He spoke with tears 
of the mysterious disappointment of his 
plans. " I have been permitted to make 
the worst possible mistakes. Oh, these 
mistakes ! How large a part of the bitter- 
ness of this bitter life do they constitute. . 
. . . The Lord is scourging me and scourg- 
ing me. I am afraid I despise the chast- 
ening of the Lord. I wish I could feel as 
I did in that sickness in January. That 
was a blessed sickness." In the midst of 
these lamentations, however, the Bible 
always gave him relief. 

The memorandum-book which lay upon 
his table in Paris contains this prayer : — 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 163 

" My God and Father ! Oh, strengthen 
me, bless me, succor me in the dark hours 
of my depression. Suffer me not to fall 
away from Jesus in my dying day. Give 
me patience and the submission of an obe- 
dient child under all my sufferings ; and if 
it cannot be that I recover, oh, enrich my 
soul with that which is better than health, 
— thy holy and blessed Spirit, All this I 
humbly beg for Jesus' sake. Amen." 

After returning to America, he remarked, 
" When I was in Paris I longed for health 
with an agony of desire." 

The kindest expressions of sympathy 
reached him from Americans in Paris, 
some of whom he had never seen. Flow- 
ers and fruit were sent to him by persons 
who would give no name. Every such 
attention cheered his heart and made his 
face brighten with pleasure and gratitude. 
" May the Lord reward them ! " was al- 
ways his prayer. In his diary he wrote, 
May 12, alluding to an unexpected kind- 



164 MEMORIAL. 

ness from a stranger : " Verily, the Lord 
has not forgotten me. May he forgive my 
weak faith ! " 

He continued to speak of his anticipated 
tour, but was advised by his physicians to 
return home. The plans so long medi- 
tated and so carefully arranged were not 
given up without a struggle. At first he 
listened unwillingly to such advice. " No ; 
I cannot do it." Yet, when told that his 
friends feared he would never reach Amer- 
ica, unless he should- go soon, he replied, 
" Yes ; I have sometimes had such fears 
myself." It was not long before he 
yielded cheerfully to the judgment of 
others. " I am now as impatient to go 
home as I was desirous to remain here. 
It would be dreadful to die here, but so 
sweet to die at home." 

Before daylight on the morning of May 
15, after bleeding again, he said with com- 
posure : " I have no idea that I shall 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 165 

recover, unless God work a miracle in my 
case, which of course I cannot expect. I 
hope I shall not die before I reach home." 
In his diary he wrote : — 

" May 16. — A comfortable day. I 
thank the Lord for it, whatever may come. 

" May 17. — I raised more blood this 
morning. Truly, God is giving me repeat- 
ed and loud calls to set my house in order. 

" May 20. Sabbath. — This is my last 
day, if it please God, in Paris. I rejoice 
at the prospect of so soon escaping from 
my long imprisonment." 

" I shall never forget," says a ministerial 
friend already alluded to, " the cheerful 
glow of his countenance when I bade him 
' good-by,' and said, < I hope we shall meet 
again at home.' ' If not, then in a better 
home, 1 he promptly replied, with one of 
his pleasant smiles." 

Rev. Dr. G. L. Prentiss wrote, at a later 
period : — 



166 MEMORIAL. 

" In Paris I first saw Mr. Little, March 
23, when he called at my house. I think 
we had met but once before. I remem- 
bered him, however, well enough to be 
greatly shocked at his altered and sickly 
appearance. He was extremely feeble, 
and seemed to feel lonely and despondent. 
His intention then was to proceed in a few 
days to Montauban, in the south of 
France, and, after having remained some 
time there, to go to Switzerland, and so 
pass north into Germany. Here he pro- 
posed to spend the following autumn and 
winter, visiting the principal universities, 
and residing a month or two at each of 
them. It was painful to hear him speak 
of these plans ; for although his counte- 
nance brightened with pleasurable antici- 
pations, it was only too plain that he was 
doomed to disappointment. At my en- 
treaty, he gave up the journey to the south 
of France, and decided to remain in Paris 
until the warm season should arrive. 

" I saw him almost every day at the 
Hotel du Louvre, and he was often at my 






VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 167 

house. At times he was cheerful, and 
talked with interest about the various relig- 
ious, political, and literary questions of the 
day. Sick as he was, he said many a 
bright and pleasant thing. His sportive 
humor not unfrequently showed itself, and 
occasionally he would even break into a 
hearty laugh. 

" The fatal malady made such rapid 
progress that he was soon compelled to 
abandon all attempts at sight-seeing, and 
confine himself chiefly to his chamber, 
which opened upon a little balcony com- 
manding a fine view of the Rue de Rivoli. 
When the weather would permit, he de- 
lighted to lean over this balcony, and 
watch the vast tide flowing day and night 
along that magnificent thoroughfare. He 
was a keen observer of foreign customs, 
and entered with singular z6st into the 
novelties of this brilliant and wonderful 
scene. 

" He was able to read but very little. 
The book which, after the Bible, seemed 
to be dearer to him than any other, was 



168 MEMORIAL. 

the Sabbath Hymn Book. It was always 
at his side. If I remember rightly, there 
were some lines on a blank leaf of this vol- 
ume, which he spoke of as being very pre- 
cious to him. 

" While in Paris he suffered, as you 
know, from severe religious depression. 
There were, however, bright intervals when 
he seemed to be lifted above the surround- 
ing gloom ; when both his looks and his 
words indicated inward peace and joy in 
the Holy Ghost. 

" After all his hopes had been dashed, 
and the resolution taken to return home 
immediately, he was still forming plans for 
future study. Only a few days before 
leaving Paris, he prepared a list of impor- 
tant historical and philosophical works in 
French, which he wished to purchase. He 
had a fine scholarly spirit : and in my 
intercourse with him it often manifested 
itself in a striking and beautiful manner. 
Once, when the probability that he would 
nof be able to resume his studies was al- 
luded to, he replied, in a tone of cheerful 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 169 

assurance : ' Yes ; but I have not a doubt 
that I shall be engaged in studies far more 
congenial and elevating.' I met few 
Americans abroad who seemed to me so 
well qualified to make a wise and effective 
use of foreign travel. But he has gone 
forth on a grander journey than that whose 
sudden and sad conclusion was such a 
sharp disappointment." 

The lines on a blank leaf of the Sab- 
bath Hymn Book, to which Dr. Prentiss 
alludes, had often been repeated to Mr. 
Little by his children on Sabbath-days 
and are inserted below. In one of his 
letters to friends at home, he said : " I 
never before saw the beauty of that sweet 
hymn, ' The Early Little Pilgrims,' which 

S copied upon a blank leaf of my 

Hymn Book. I did not discover it until 1 
had been here sometime. I am impressed 
with its appropriateness to all pilgrims." 
One Sabbath morning in May he washed 



170 MEMORIAL. 

to hear it, and said : " I can never read it 
through without tears." 

" The way to heaven is narrow, 

And its blessed entrance strait; 
But how safe the little pilgrims 
Who get within the gate ! 

" The sunbeams of the morning 
Make the narrow path so fair ; 
And these early little pilgrims 
Find dewy blessings there. 

" They pass o'er rugged mountains, 
But they climb them with a song ; 
For these early little pilgrims 
Have sandals new and strong. 

" They do not greatly tremble, 

When the shadows night foretell ; 
For these early little pilgrims 
Have tried the path so well. 

" They know it leads to heaven, 

With its bright and open gates, 
Where for happy little pilgrims 
A Saviour's welcome waits." 

Monday, May 21, dawned brightly. At 
an early hour friends came to attend Mr. 
Little to the railway station. The con- 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 171 

cierge, who had shown much sympathy, 
followed the invalid to the carriage, and 
looked after him with tearful eyes. Mr. 
Little said, " The poor concierge really felt 
sorry for me, I think." 

Dr. Prentiss, who was to him as a broth- 
er, accompanied him to Havre. The day 
was cloudless, and Mr. Little enjoyed the 
journey highly. In a recent letter, Dr. 
Prentiss says : " That delightful day to 
Havre seems, as I look back upon it, like 
a gleam of paradise." 

May 23, Mr. Little wrote in his diary : 

" We leave Havre this morning, in the 
Vanderbilt, for New York. God seems 
plainly to indicate that this is our path. 
May he lead and bless us in every step of 
it." 

-The first days of the homeward voyage 
were mild, and the waters calm. " Yes," 
he said ; " the Lord is bringing us on our 



172 MEMORIAL. 

way gently, very gently. I ought to 
be deeply grateful." Soon the weather 
changed, and the sea became rough. A 
few times Mr. Little ventured to go o* 
deck, but cold winds compelled him to re 
turn to his state-room. " This is such a 
disappointment," he said. " I thought I 
should be able to take the air a great deal." 
Yet, when speaking of the perfect health 
which those around him enjoyed, he added, 
" I have something infinitely more precious 
than health ; of that I am certain." 

The discomforts, which it was hard for 
a well person to endure patiently, made his 
sufferings severe. " This dreadful voy- 
age ! " was at length his distressed cry ; 
" how long must it continue ? " 

" But the days will pass away." 

" I know it ; yet — 

1 A weary way before me lies ; 
My heart sinks at the journey's length, 



VOYAGE TO FRANCE, AND RETURN. 173 

My wasted flesh has little strength ; 

Only my soul still cries in me, 

Lord, fetch me home, take me to Thee.' " 

One day he was often in tears, but was 
silent. In the afternoon he said : i; I am 
afraid I am not a Christian, I cling so to 
life. It seems to me I have much to live 
for. But I think my disease must be 
making rapid progress." When his brow 
and burning hands were bathed in cold 
water, he looked up, saying, " How refresh- 
ing ! Oh, the washing of regeneration, and 
renewing of the Holy Ghost ! n 

Of those on board the steamer, who 
seemed regardless of anything beyond this 
world, he said : " It is a distressing 
thought to me that thousands as thought- 
less as they have suddenly gone down to 
the bottom of the sea." 

The Vanderbilt arrived at New York on 
Sabbath morning, June 3. While riding 
to a hotel, Mr. Little expressed great 



174 MEMORIAL. 

thankfulness that he had reached his be- 
loved native land, and added : " How de- 
lightful it will be to hear the church-bells 
again ! " The last words in his diary were 
written on this day : " We arrived in New 
York at five o'clock this morning, after a 
passage to me most tedious and exhaust- 
ing. God be praised for bringing us over 
in safety." 



%% %m nf %mu. 

Ox his voyage from Havre to New- 
York, the weary hours which ]\Ir. Little 
passed in his state-room were some- 
times cheered by the singing of a gold- 
finch in a cage near his door. The accu- 
racy and sweetness with w^hich the little 
creature went through the strains of some 
plaintive air which he had been taught, 
often brought a smile to the sad face of 
the invalid. This is one of many inci- 
dents illustrating his musical taste. 

One of the gratifications which he en- 
joyed at West Newton w^as frequent inter- 
course with his friend, Rev. D. L. Furber, 
of Newton Centre, a gentleman well known 
for his interest in music, and one to whom 

(175) 



176 MEMORIAL. 

Mr. Little felt the stronger attachment for 
the sympathy between them on this sub- 
ject. We give the following reminis- 
cences as they have been prepared by Mr. 
Furber : — 

" Mr. Little was from childhood an ar- 
dent lover of music. When only three 
years of age, he would follow a funeral 
procession, that he might hear the singing 
at the grave ; and while he listened to it, 
would stand and weep. At the age of 
twelve years he took his place in the vil- 
lage choir, with other members of the 
family, his father being the leader. He 
was particularly fond of the flute, even 
from boyhood. He sometimes went into 
his father's yard and played upon it, when 
he wished to call down the doves ; for he 
had taught them to come at the sound. 
He became in after years a skilful flutist. 

" While at Andover he was leader of 
the seminary choir and president of the 
Lockhart Society. 

" At his death, the Penobscot Musical 



HIS LOVE OF MUSIC. 177 

Association adopted the following among 
other minutes: 'Mr. Little was elected 
president of this association at the session 
of 1854, and held the office until 1856. 
At the session of 1855, he delivered by re- 
quest his very able and timely address 
upon music, published in the minutes of 
that year. Those who were present will 
not forget the occasion or the address. 
Mr. Little was very constant in his attend- 
ance upon our rehearsals and concerts ; 
and, being a man of more than ordinary 
musical taste, he marked our progress with 
pleasure.' In his removal, ' this associa- 
tion has lost a firm friend, and the cause 
of music an able and eloquent advocate.' 

" While Mr. Little resided in West 
Newton, he was a constant attendant 
upon the Wednesday afternoon concerts 
at the Music Hall in Boston. He always 
preserved the programmes of these con- 
certs, as an aid in recalling the musical 
strains which he had heard. A compact 
roll of these programmes was found among 
his papers after his death. 

12 



178 MEMOKIAL. 

" He was a delighted listener to the 
birds that filled the woods near his house 
at West Newton. There he has been 
known to spend hours listening to their 
songs. Often he would search a long 
time for some bird which he heard singing 
at a distance. On returning home, he 
sometimes wrote upon the scale the notes 
of any bird-song which had especially in- 
terested him. 

" Mr. Little was the means of introduc- 
ing congregational singing into both the 
churches with which he was connected as 
their pastor. The emotion with which he 
spoke to his people at West Newton, after 
their first attempt at congregational sing- 
ing, is well remembered. He endeavored 
to express his gratification at their suc- 
cess, but was unable to give full utterance 
to his feelings. He afterward said, that 
'it seemed as much like true worship as 
anything could be this side of heaven.' 
He often joined his people in their weekly 
meeting for practice, and sang with his 
accustomed animation. On the Sabbath, 



HIS LOVE OF MUSIC. 179 

well sustained and full as the chorus 
usually was, Mr. Little's voice was always 
distinguishable ; and, if he sat down to 
rest before preaching, the absence of it 
was at once felt. He could sing tenor or 
bass with almost equal ease. His voice 
was sweetest upon the tenor, richest upon 
the bass. 

" Such was his love of music, that, 
whenever he sang, he sang with all his 
heart. The charm of his singing consisted 
very much in the strength of feeling which 
he threw into it. One scarcely thought of 
his artistic skill, and his consummate taste, 
when he was singing anything that deeply 
interested him. In singing favorite minor 
tunes, it was a common thing for him to 
be moved to tears. Having opportunity 
on one occasion to sing an hour at the 
piano with two or three clerical friends,* 

*One of these gentlemen was Prof. J. X. Putnam, of Dart- 
mouth College. In a letter to Mrs. Little, written on hearing 
of her husband's death, he alludes incidentally to this inter- 
view as follows : — " Little did I think when we met last 
August at Mr. Furber's and sang and talked together, he 
with all the old warmth and enthusiasm of our Andover 



180 MEMORIAL. 

with whom he had musical sympathy, one 
of the first tunes he called for was that ex- 
quisite minor tune, ' Strand.' It was sung 
in the hymn, ' Like sheep we went astray.' 
He sang the treble of the tune, from the 
beginning to the end of the hymn, without 
pause, and with steadily increasing inten- 
sity of feeling and strength of intonation. 
Those who sang with him will not soon 
forget the tide of enthusiasm by which 
they were swept along. He then called 
for the tune ' Brent,' another minor tune, 
very simple in its structure, but fitly ex- 
pressing the sentiment of a deeply peniten- 
tial hymn, to which it is set in the Sab- 
days, that less than a year would part us, — that I was see- 
ing him for the last time. Although I had not been privi- 
leged to meet him very often since our seminary life, yet ever 
when we did meet was there the same freshness of spirit, 
the same winning affectionateness, the same love of all things 
good and beautiful and Christian. So that his rich and 
cordial nature, his whole character of mind and heart, will be 
to me a perpetual and most valued remembrance." 

Mr. Putnam and Mr. Little were not long parted. Their 
voices have already mingled, we doubt not, in the chorus of 
the skies, " Where the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll," 
and where the communion of Christian friends is not exposed 
to the interruptions or subject to the limitations which re- 
strict it on earth. 



HIS LOVE OF MUSIC. 181 

bath Hymn and Tune Book. The hymn 
is founded on the prayer of the publican, 
4 God be merciful to me a sinner.' Mr. 
Little sang the treble as before, his voice 
breathing with all the tenderness of con- 
trition, and his eyes suffused with tears. 
This circumstance was remembered, and 
the same tune was sung some months 
afterward, at his funeral. 

" On another occasion I called upon 
him at West Newton, and found him con- 
fined to his room by illness, and lying 
upon his bed. After conversing for a 
time, he arose, took the Sabbath Hymn 
and Tune Book from the table, and said : 
1 We must sing one tune before you go.' 
He turned at once to the minor tune c Ag- 
nol,' but his eyes were so weak that he 
could sing only two stanzas before he was 
obliged to close the book. It was a touch- 
ing illustration of his love for singing, to 
see him rise from his sick-bed for but two 
verses of bare treble and bass, without the 
help of any instrument. 

" When anticipating his tour in Europe, 



182 MEMORIAL. 

he counted much upon the summer-even- 
ing music which he should hear in parks 
and gardens and the usual places of public 
resort. But this was denied him. Almost 
the only pleasure of this kind, which he 
was able to enjoy when in Paris was the 
playing of a harp at evening in apartments 
near his sick-room." 

Mr. Little noticed with delight all the 
allusions which his favorite authors made 
to the voice of song. Only a few days 
before the printing of this memorial was 
commenced, his distinct pencil-mark was 
found at the margin of the following lines 
in Milton : — 

" That undisturbed song of pure consent, 
Ave sung before the sapphire-colored throne 
To Him that sits thereon, 
With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee; 
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row, 
Their loud, uplifted angel-trumpets blow; 
And the cherubic host, in thousand choirs, 
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, 
With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, 
Hymns devout and holy psalms 
Singing everlastingly." 



tasA Wnh nf jjxs 3Cife. 



" As tlie harp-strings only render 

All their treasures of sweet sound, 
All their music, glad or tender, 
Firmly struck and tightly bound ; 

" So the hearts of Christians owe 
Each its deepest, sweetest strain 
To the pressure firm of woe, 
And the tension tight of pain. 

" Spices crushed, their pungence yield, 
Trodden scents their sweets respire; 
Would you have its strength revealed ? 
Cast the incense in the tire. 

" Thus the crushed and broken frame 
Oft doth sweetest graces yield; 
From the martyr's keenest flame 
Heavenly incense is distilled." 

This Hymn of Consolation, written 
by Adam of St. Victor in the twelfth 
century, is one of the sacred poems in 
which Mr, Little had an increasing pleas- 

(183) 



184 MEMORIAL. 

ure. When he left home for the last time, 
he carried a copy of it in his pocket-diary. 
There it was discovered after his death; 
and it seemed to describe the effect of 
suffering upon his own character. 

On Monday afternoon, June 4, Mr. Lit- 
tle left New York by steamboat for Fall 
River. To a friend, who came to bid him 
farewell, he spoke earnestly of the rest of 
heaven, and of the pure and blessed com- 
pany which he should meet there. To 
another he said : " The Master knows best 
whether he has anything more for me to 
do here. As he wills I am content. I am 
ready to do the Lord's bidding. My stay 
in this world is no concern of mine." 

The journey from Fall River to Boston 
was one of extreme exhaustion to him. 
He reached the house of a relative. Rev. 
Dr. Peck, at Roxbury, on Tuesday morn- 
ing. 

For some days after his arrival he was 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 185 

evidently suffering under a renewed mental 
conflict. To give up life was still a great 
effort. Often he spoke with intense feel- 
ing of the disappointment of his hopes, 
and the cutting off of his plans, — of the 
mysterious course God was pursuing with 
him. When reminded of the words of 
Job, " Wilt thou break a leaf driven to 
and fro, and wilt thou pursue the dry 
stubble ? " he said ; " I thank you for that 
verse ; I have been trying to recall it." 
" God has laid me aside from my work. 
He saw that I was not fit for it, and has 
taken it out of my hands. I have longed 
to live, that I might live better than I have 
in time past. But it is too late now. 
When the snow falls again I shall be in 
my grave." — " How I have struggled 
against disease ! But God meant to take 
me away now." 

It was not long, however, before he could 
say with cheerful composure, " I have no 



186 MEMORIAL. 

wish to live." The opinion of his physi- 
cians coincided with Mr. Little's view of 
his own case. " The moment I stepped my 
foot into this room I felt that I had come 
here to die." — " Well, I shall sink sweetly 
into the arms of my blessed Saviour. I 
have now an excellent opportunity to prac- 
tise what I have preached." 

At this stage of his disease his bodily 
suffering was in some respects peculiarly 
severe ; but it did not prevent him from 
appreciating the favorable circumstances 
of his situation. Many times he spoke of 
the contrast between his condition in 
Roxbury and in Paris, of " the change 
from that steamer to this delightful room." 
— " It is such a mercy to be surrounded 
by my family friends, and to have the 
comforts of home." — " That distressing 
voyage stifled my religious feelings, but 
now I enjoy a blessed peace." 

Once he said : " My history during this 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 187 

sickness illustrates remarkably the good- 
ness and the severity of God. How many 
alleviations there were of my condition in 
Paris ! It was wonderful, the kindness I 
received there. Yet the one thing I de- 
sired of God, above all earthly blessings, 
he denied me inexorably, — inexorably. 
But I have no disposition to murmur." 

He rode a short distance nearly every 
day, and at times would walk into the 
garden, or sit under the shade of the trees ; 
but his strength failed rapidly. " These 
nights," he said, " hurry me to my home." 

June 10. Sabbath. — He expressed great 
delight in some passages from the Litany. 
As the reader began the Gloria in Excel- 
sis, Mr. Little himself repeated, in a man- 
ner most earnest and devout, the words, 
" We praise thee, we bless thee, we wor- 
ship thee, we glorify thee, we give thanks 
to thee for thy great glory, O Lord God, 
heavenly King, God the Father Almighty ? " 



1 88 MEMORIAL. 

He wished afterward to hear a few 
pages from the Pilgrim's Progress. The 
narrative of Mr. Standfast's passing 
through the river was read. Mr. Little 
said, " No ; that will not do for me." 

June 11. — He expressed painful appre- 
hensions of the slow wasting away of the 
body. " It is not death that I dread, but 
this long, fearful conflict with disease. I 
am growing weaker every day. I want 
you to pray that I may have patience and 
fortitude to bear this struggle. I want to 
show the power of the gospel to sustain." 

The words were repeated to him : 
" Strengthened with all might, according 
to his glorious power, unto all patience 
and long-suffering with joyfulness." 

u Yes," he responded ; " that is just what 
I need." 

No one could be with Mr. Little during 
these days and nights, without fresh evi- 
dence that the Creator of the soul is the 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 189 

author of the Bible. In all the exigencies 
for which human aid and .sympathy were 
totally inadequate, the Word of God was 
his unfailing source of help. And it 
seemed that the Spirit of truth, the Com- 
forter, did, according to the Saviour's 
promise, bring to remembrance whatsoever 
was needed to cheer and strengthen the 
heart of the sufferer. 

After listening to a hymn, he said : " It 
is very sweet ; but there is nothing like the 
Bible. It is a wonderful peculiarity of the 
Bible that the whole gospel is often con- 
tained in a single verse. It meets all the 
wants of the soul. But what will those 
who neglect it do, when they come to be 
sick and die ? Whither will they turn ? 
Oh, what awful desolation ! " 

June 14. — At an early hour he asked for 
his copy of the Testament and Psalms. 
w I wish you would bring it to me every 
morning. I intend now to give myself to 



1 90 MEMORIAL. 

the literature of heaven. Oh, this precious 
book ! How much I have read in it ; and 
how I used to lie and press it to my breast 
when I was in Paris ! " Soon he fell asleep 
with it in this position. He could now 
seldom talk of the Bible without tearful 
emotion. 

He alluded to a step he had taken some 
years before, which had injured his health, 
and spoke of it as " a great mistake." 

" Perhaps you will not always think it a 
mistake." 

" Probably not. It will, I suppose, bring 
me to heaven all the sooner." 

Tune 16. — To a ministerial friend who 
asked him if he did not wish he could en- 
ter the pulpit again, he replied : " No. I 
sometimes think of subjects upon which I 
would like to talk with my people, but I 
have still a great shrinking from the public- 
ity of a ministerial life. Yet I am certain 
that I glory more than ever in the gospel." 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 191 

As he took the hand of another,* he said, 
quoting the words of the dying President 
Adams, " This is the last of earth.' 1 In 
the course of the conversation which fol- 
lowed, Mr. Little remarked : " I feel it to be 
the greatest deficiency of my pastoral life 
that I have not had more personal love to 
Christ." The friend to whom this remark 
was made, wrote afterward of Mr. Little : 
" The doctrine of Christ crucified, and sal- 
vation through him, rose before his mind 
in enlarged grandeur and beauty as he 
neared another world. He spoke with 
ardor of its preciousness, and the glory of 
preaching it." 

" I wish," he said to one of his family, 
" I wish I could know that I had ever 
done any good. I wish I could have rea- 
son to think that my preaching had done 
others as much good as it has given me 
pain." 

*Rev. S.L.Caldwell. 



192 MEMORIAL. 

He was told of an instance in which one 
of his sermons had made a lasting impres- 
sion. 

" Is it possible ? " he replied ; " and I 
was so dreadfully dejected when I preached 
it ! I remember well what I suffered that 
Sabbath-day. I never supposed that ser- 
mon could impress anybody ; but what 
you have told me is a relief." 

" What a comfort your visits were to 



u Yes; I believe they were." 

He was reminded of other cases in 
which he had cheered the sick and the 
afflicted, and had instructed the dying. 

" Yes, I ought to be thankful for this : I 
have, I hope, helped to plant some feet 
upon the Rock." 

While awake in the night, he said, in 
an undertone, as if to himself, " Yes, it 
was cruel — cruel." 

" What do you mean ? " 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. ' 193 



" Why, that I did not go to see S 

when I returned from the West last 
year." 



" You were not well, and of course you 
wished to get home." 

" Ah, but it would have been so easy to 
stop there for a few hours ! I could have 
done it as well as not. I might perhaps 
have said something to comfort her as she 
was going down to the grave. It was my 
last opportunity to help her. I can never 
forgive myself — never ! " 

" You can ask her to forgive you when 
you meet in heaven." 

" Yes — dear saint ! I shall ask her 
forgiveness the very first thing." 

June 17. Sabbath. — " Will you read 
me the twentieth chapter of John? I want 
it read to me every Sabbath morning while 
I live." He remarked upon the fact that, 
when Jesus was risen, he appeared first to 
Mary Magdalene, and that Peter was es- 

13 



194 MEMORIAL. 

pecially remembered in the message to the 
disciples. 

In the afternoon, while sitting for a short 
time downstairs, he said : " Please roll my 
chair to that bookcase." He then took a 
copy of the Sabbath Hymn and Tune 
Book, and slowly turned over the leaves. 

" Oh, I have so many sweet and sad as- 
sociations with this book! I should like 
to hear one of these hymns." 

We sang : — 

" Sweet is the work, Lord, 

Thy glorious acts to sing." * 

He was much affected by the last verse : — 

11 To songs of praise and joy 
Be every Sabbath given, 
That such may be our blest employ 
Eternally in heaven." 

After he had been carried to his cham- 
ber, a friend, observing the expression of 
his countenance, inquired, " Do you wish 
for anything ? " 

* The Sabbath Hymn and Tunc Book, p. 22. 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 195 

" I want my Saviour. This dreadful state 
of my system, — 4 t hides my blessed Sav- 
iour from me. I cannot perceive the pres- 
ence of the Lord. Oh, I shall need his 
hand!" 

" But he is near you." 

" Yes, I know it. Pray for me that I 
may be gentle and patient." 

June 18. — " Please bring my Testament 
and Psalms, and read to me that blessed 
fourteenth of John. No one can tell what 
that chapter has been to me." When the 
twenty-third verse was read, — "If a man 
love me, he will keep my words; and my 
Father will love him, and we will come 
unto him, and make our abode with him," 
— he said, " That goes down to the very 
bottom ; " but was too full of emotion to 
say more. At another time he remarked 
of the same verse, " What an idea that 
gives of the security of a Christian ! " 



196 MEMORIAL. 

" God's declaration that he will dwell 
with the humble and contrite is very won- 
derful. How wonderful, too, that passage : 
' But he, being full of compassion, forgave 
their iniquity, and destroyed them not; 
yea, many a time turned he his anger 
away, and did not stir up all his wrath. 
For he remembered that they were but 
flesh ; a wind that passeth away, and 
cometh not again.' " 

This day he began to dictate a farewell 
letter to his beloved people at West New- 
ton, renewing his request for a dissolution 
of his pastoral connection. His breath 
was so short that he could utter only a few 
words continuously. 

" To the Congregational Church and Socie- 
ty in West Neioton, Mass." 

" Dear Brethren and Friends, — Grace 
be unto you, and peace from God our 
Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ. 

" It is now almost six months since 1 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LI "TV 197 

have preached to you, or performed among 

you any pastoral labor ; and it is quite cer- 
tain that I shall never preach to any peo- 
ple on earth again. 

" My trip to Europe, which I was en- 
couraged to believe would be beneficial to 
me, has proved as disastrous as it was 
brief; and I have returned in a very broken 
and precarious state of health. 

" The only course remaining to me, 
therefore, is to renew my request that the 
connection subsisting between us as pastor 
and people be dissolved. The responsibil- 
ity, however it may be qualified and light- 
ened, is too much for me. On the other 
hand, I am unwilling to be living on your 
bounty while doing you no service, and to 
stand in the way of your taking measures 
to obtain for yourselves a man who will do 
the work as well as bear the name of pastor. 

" In making this final communication, it 
gives me great pleasure to renew my for- 
mer expressions of gratitude for your in- 
numerable acts of kindness, and tokens of 
confidence and esteem. 



198 MEMORIAL. 

" It is in my heart to dictate more, 
much more, to you ; but my extreme fee- 
bleness forbids. I cannot, however, omit 
the opportunity to render again, and for 
the last time, my testimony to the ever- 
lasting importance of the truths of the 
gospel, — truths which I have commended 
to you so often, and which are now more 
precious to me than my life. 

" Suffer me, with a solemnity borrowed 
from the grave and eternity, to beseech 
you not to neglect so great salvation. 

" The Lord bless you and keep you, and 
cause his face to shine upon you, and give 
you peace. 

" Your affectionate friend and pastor, 
" G. B. Little. 

" Roxbury, June 21, 1860." 

He was unable to dictate the whole of 
this communication at once. It was be- 
fore light, the morning of June 21, that he 
said, " Please light the candle, and bring 
your pencil and paper to the bedside. I 
am ready to finish that letter." 



i 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 199 

On the same day he sent messages to 

some absent friends. " Tell Mrs. that 

our struggles with the infirmities of these 
poor bodies will soon be over. Then, 
through infinite grace in Christ Jesus, with- 
out w r hich there is no ground of hope for any 
sinner, we may hope to enter into the rest 
and bliss and glory of the heavenly city. 

" Tell — — that I think with pleasure of 
the conversations we used to have upon 
themes which wdll be our incessant and 
delighted study forever." 

He closed his eyes and said, " Now I 
believe all is done, so far as this world is 
concerned." 

" I cannot endure it," said one at his 
bedside, w to see you so feeble." 

" Well, I shall soon be strong. We 
must all become weak before we can be 
glorified." 

— " Please read me those verses you 
used to read to me in Paris. That verse, 



200 MEMORIAL. 

' As one whom his mother comforteth,' I 
remember. I wish I were able to commit 
some others ; such as that one in which are 
the words, ' For thou hast cast all my sins 
behind thy back.' But I am so weak that 
I do not think I can make the effort." 

He was not yet wholly confined to his 
bed, but occasionally walked about his 
own room and into adjoining rooms. 

Trembling at every step, and panting 
for breath, he said : " This is hard work ; 
but I suppose it is best for me to keep 
about as long as I can." 

June 22. — He mentioned an article of 
food which he thought he should relish. 

" You shall have it certainly." 

" Oh, no ! It is nothing but a caprice. 
I ought to take my thoughts off from 
the meat that perisheth. I have meat to 
eat that ye know not of. I have a sweet 
consciousness of God's presence, and of 
communion with him." 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 201 

— "I believe that, as my disease pro- 
gresses, grace will be given me patiently 
and submissively to endure. It is a com- 
fort to me that in these sufferings I have 
fellowship with Christ. I have been think- 
ing how glad I should be to pass through 
great suffering, if in it I may glorify God. 
It used to trouble me to think that I 
might have much to suffer, but it does not 
now ; all that has passed away." 

" How little we can do for you." 

" You can only pray for me. But ' the 
sufferings of this present time are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory 
which shall be revealed in us.' " 

His thankfulness for every comfort was 
a beautiful trait. Often he spoken of 
those who have not the ordinary means of 
relief in sickness, and contrasted his own 
condition with theirs. " Oh, what mercies 
I have ! How many comforts. "What 
blessed alleviations. I thank the Lord for 



202 MEMORIAL. 

them." Sometimes, when he tasted fruit, 
he would say feelingly, " One of God's 
gifts ! " He seldom drank ice-water, upon 
which more than anything else he depend- 
ed for refreshment, without expressing his 
gratitude to God for it. As he held the 
small glass in his trembling hand, he would 
look up with a smile, and say, u Oh, how 
good ! — one of God's best gifts ; " or, 
" Blessed be God for water, — this precious 
gift!" 

Alluding to his exemption from a form 
of suffering he had anticipated, he said : 
" What an alleviation ! I bless the Lord 
for it. ' Surely goodness and mercy shall 
follow me all the days of my life.' " 

June 23. — As he rode slowly past some 
of the most attractive residences in Rox- 
bury, he remarked upon their beauty, and 
the high culture of the adjacent grounds, 
and then said, " ' In my Father's house are 
many mansions.' " 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 203 

Mr. Little's love of nature and its influ- 
ence on his religious feelings was never 
more noticeable than during this sickness. 
When he entered his chamber on the morn- 
ing of his arrival in Roxbury, and from the 
window looked out upon the luxuriant 
foliage around, he exclaimed, " How 
beautiful this is ! The dear trees ! " 

Fresh flowers were placed every day 
where his eyes could easily rest upon them. 
One morning they were not brought to his 
room as usual. When he awoke, he asked, 
K Where are the flowers ? " 

" We thought you might be tired of 
having them here." 

" Not at all, not at all. I love to have 
them." He expressed great pleasure in 
them as tokens of the kindness of his 
friends ; but most of all he loved to consid- 
er them as the work of God. He would 
ask to have them near him, and while 
carefully looking them over, would speak 



204 MEMORIAL. 

of the paradise above, or " the white robes " 
of the redeemed. " That rose is like heav- 
en." — " What a glorious Creator must he 
be who formed these beautiful things ; and 
if he so adorns a sinful world, what will 
heaven be ! " Often, as he held them in 
his hand, he would repeat the lines, — 

There everlasting spring abides, 
And never-withering flowers." 

One of the last days of his life he said 
of a bouquet which had just been sent to 
him, " I should like to have those flowers 
where I can see them till I die." 

June 24. Sabbath. — Returning from his 
short ride, he exclaimed : " Oh, what joy to 
be admitted through those gates, and to 
behold that face ! It must be the first de- 
sire of every ransomed soul to approach 
the throne and behold the Saviour. I shall 
see Him as he is! " 

He requested a friend to read from a 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 205 

manuscript sermon by Rev. A. C. Thomp- 
son, on Revelation xxii. 1, 2, — " And he 
showed me a pure river of water of life, 
clear as crystal, proceeding out of the 
throne of God and of the Lamb. In the 
midst of the street of it, and on either side 
of the river, was there the tree of life, which 
bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded 
her fruit every month ; and the leaves of 
the tree were for the healing of the na- 
tions." 

He listened with eager attention, and in 
his conversation, during this day and on 
succeeding days, frequently referred to 
leading ideas of the discourse. 

"How beautiful the description of the 
river of water of life ! How rich the mean- 
ing of that passage. ' The river of water 
of life,' — denoting fulness, purity, and per- 
manence ; ' the tree of life, bearing twelve 
manner of fruits, and yielding her fruit 
every month.' Oh, the rich, varied, and 



206 MEMORIAL. 

inexhaustible nature of heavenly joys ! 
Beautiful, — beautiful ! " 

He also alluded to his " Sabbath-morn- 
ing chapter," and repeated the fourteenth, 
fifteenth, and sixteenth verses, speaking 
with great expression the word " Mary," 
and adding, " She knew that voice." 

At noon he suddenly awaked from a 
long sleep, and exclaimed in a strong 
voice : " I was gazing at the throne of God 
and of the Lamb, — the sublimest object 
in that magnificent place ; and I shall al- 
ways gaze upon it. Oh, it is wonder- 
ful ! " 

In the afternoon, struck with his increas- 
ing feebleness, a friend repeated to him 
the words, " My flesh and my heart 
faileth ; " — " but God," he responded, " is 
the strength of my heart, and my portion 
forever." 

June 25. — He took his last ride. After 
he was placed upon the bed, on his return, 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 207 

he said > " Oh, I shall be so glad when they 
bring me upstairs for the last time ! " 

Once, when weeping, he quickly wiped 
away his tears, — " No, I will not weep, 
— I will not." 

" But Jesus ' offered up prayers, with 
strong crying and tears.' ' Jesus wept ' at 
the grave of Lazarus." 

" I know it ; but Jesus had the immense 
burden of the world's sins laid upon him." 

" ' God shall wipe away all tears ' from 
your eyes." 

" What a beautiful expression of God's 
minute and tender care that is ! " 

As the attempt was made to do some- 
thing for his relief, he said, his bosom 
heaving with emotion, " And no man min- 
istered unto Him." Again, when drinking 
ice-water, he exclaimed, with a look of 
distress, " ' And they gave Him vinegar to 
drink mingled with gall ! ' Oh, what pains 
the blessed Saviour must have endured! 



208 MEMORIAL. 

Mine are nothing at all, — infinitely less 
than I deserve." 

June 26. — He broke a long silence, 
saying : " Satan has been troubling me for 
two or three days, with what you said 
about my having done some good. I am 
afraid I shall think too much of it, — so 
much as to make the superabounding love 
of God seem less." 

He sat on the piazza, in an easy-chair. 
The morning was sultry, and he soon be- 
came faint. He threw his head back, and 
struggled painfully for breath. As he 
revived, he saw his friend, Mr. Furber, pass- 
ing the house. " Please to call him in," 
was his request, feebly spoken. 

The same friend writes thus of the inter- 
view : — 

" 1 cannot easily forget the look he 
gave me when I took his hand. His whole 
heart seemed to be thrown into the ex- 
pression of cordiality which beamed from 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 209 

his face and trembled in his voice. I think 
the first thing that he said, after giving me 
his most emotional greeting, was, ' My 
thoughts are all in heaven, where I expect 
so soon to be.' He then abruptly, and 
without a moment's pause, began to tell 
me what dark and distressing views he 
had had of his sins. In what he said of 
this, he used great strength and energy of 
expression. His ; whole horizon had been 
black, without a ray of light from any quar- 
ter of the heavens.' I asked him whether 
his Christian hope had waned at all. He 
replied, ' No ; Christ is a Saviour for the 
chief of sinners, and is a sufficient Saviour 
for such a sinner as I am.' I reminded 
him that he had suffered a great deal. 
' No,' he said ; ' I have not suffered much, 
but I expect to suffer. If so I can glorify 
God, I hope I shall have grace to endure.' 
I told him I could not understand why he 
should be taken and I left. He replied, 
' If you knew what stuff I am made of, you 
would not wonder.' " 

This letter reminds us of a marked trait in 

14 



210 MEMORIAL. 

Mr. Little's religious experience. Although 
he had been regarded from his childhood 
as peculiarly correct in his outward life, he 
had an ever-deepening sense of sin, and a 
profound contrition on account of it. 
Months before his last illness, we were one 
day singing the hymn, 

" With broken heart and contrite sigh, 
A trembling sinner, Lord, I cry," 

when he suddenly stopped, saying, " You 
must not ask me to sing it ; I always break 
down on that hymn." Others of similar 
character affected him in the same way. 

During the illness which followed his 
first attack of bleeding, he was full of 
peace, and with joy anticipated his depart- 
ure, which he thought might take place at 
any hour. Yet there were times when he 
grieved over his sins. " Oh, I have led 
such a miserable life ! " he more than once 
exclaimed. 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 211 

Now that he had given up all hope of 
recovery, he seemed to review with a se- 
vere search every period of his history, and 
to regard himself as the chief of sinners. 
" The days of my boyhood ! oh, I wish I 
had spent them differently ! ' Remember 
not the sins of my youth nor my transgres- 
sions.' I have prayed that prayer a thou- 
sand times." 

" Oh, my sins are too great to be forgiv- 
en. Yes, they are too great." 

" No one knows what a sinner I am. 
Sometimes the thought will come over me 
with distressing power, that perhaps I have 
not truly repented. I have suffered fear- 
fully, terribly, on account of my sins." 

M This is the law, — that I should be 
taken nearly to the gate, and then be sent 
back to continue the conflict with pain and 
sin. The atonement provides for my free 
forgiveness and complete deliverance ; but 
sin is a dreadful thing, and a forgiven sin- 



212 MEMORIAL. 

ner must be prepared for heaven by a 
discipline of suffering." 

" God has given me such views of my 
sins ! All around has seemed like a dark, 
tempestuous ocean, billow upon billow." 

" That hymn says truly, — oh, how 
truly ! — 

1 Our dying day will come, 
And call our crimes to mind.' 

" I believe God will forgive me, but I 
feel as if I could not say one word if he 
should sink me in hell. Yet I do not 
think he will. I do not think he ivillP 

Repeatedly he wept over his sins while 
passing a wakeful night. One day he 
referred to Matt, xviii. 21, 22, — "Then 
came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how 
oft shall my brother sin against me, and I 
forgive him? till seven times ? Jesus saith 
unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven 
times ; but, until seventy times seven/' 
— and added, " That is a most encour- 



LAST WEEKS OF IIIS LIFE. 213 

aging passage to me." He delighted to 
repeat, or to hear others repeat, the verses : 
" Though your sins be as scarlet, they 
shall be as white as snow ; though they be 
red like crimson, they shall be as wool." 
" As far as the east is from the west, so far 
hath he removed our transgressions from 
us." In most expressive tones he would 
say, " I know that I long to be holy," and 
would speak of it as the consummation of 
blessedness " to be presented faultless be- 
fore the presence of His glory," — " with- 
out spot or wrinkle, or any such thing." 

Not less affecting than the sense of his 
own sinfulness was his impression of " the 
wonders of redeeming love," his delight in 
"the affluence of the atonement," and his 
simplicity of trust in the Saviour. In a 
note-book which ]\Ir. Little used while a 
student at Andover, we find this brief 
record : — " 1846. — March 1, 2, 6 — Sun- 
day, Monday, and Friday. — Memorable 



214 MEMORIAL. 

days in my history as a sinner. c They 
that be whole need not a physician, but 
they that are sick. I am not come to call 
the righteous, but sinners to repentance.' 
4 This is a faithful saying, and worthy of 
all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came 
into the world to save sinners, of whom I 
am chief.'' ' "Who gave himself for us, that 
he might redeem us from all iniquity, and 
purify unto himself a peculiar people zeal- 
ous of good works.'' — ' Vouchsafe, O 
Lord, to keep me this day without sin.' " 
When lying awake at night, the words he 
uttered were oftener upon " the love of 
Christ, which passeth knowledge," than 
upon any other theme. 

" I have no comfort in myself, but I can 
think of the dear Lord Jesus." 

" You must not always think I am 
unhappy when I weep. Some of my 
happiest moments are when I am melted 
into tears of penitence and love." 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 215 

" On board the Vanderbilt, it seemed to 
me that my sins carried me to the outmost 
bounds ; but Christ's love seemed so won- 
derful, that it reached me even there, and 
there I rested." 

" I am thinking of the love of Christ, 
and the amazing love of God. ' God so 
loved the world, that he gave his only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in 
him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life.' — I have delightful views of redeem- 
ing mercy." 

" I am sure I shall be a trophy of the 
Saviour's love." 

" Read me the parable of the Prodigal 
Son." After listening to it, he said : " Oh, 
how wonderful ! It gives me comfort to 
remember that Jesus is ' able to save unto 
the uttermost,' - — to save the chief of 
sinners, — that he is ' mighty to save.' It 
is because of the very depth of our misery, 
and the greatness of our sins, that the 



216 MEMORIAL. 

atoning sacrifice was made ; and God is 
honored in pardoning the greatest trans- 
gressors." 

Archbishop Leighton's words were quot- 
ed : " Whatsoever sum my debts and past 
offences may amount to, they are not too 
great for such a king as Thou art to 
forgive : they cannot rise above thy royal 
goodness in Christ Jesus." — " Please re- 
peat that again," Mr. Little said, earnestly. 
For several days afterwards he would, at 
intervals, look up inquiringly and whisper, 
u Whatsoever sum," — and then listen with 
eager attention to the remainder of the 
passage. Once he said, " Let me repeat 
that after you, until I can say it myself." 

" As I have committed my soul a thou- 
sand times to Him who is able to keep it, 
I think I may leave it with Him." 

" My mind is not clear; it is confused. 
But I can trust Jesus, if it is confused. I 
know my Saviour. Oh, I know Jesus, 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 217 

and I think I shall always know Him. 
Those are precious words, — our Lord's 
words to Thomas, — 4 Blessed are they 
that have not seen, and yet have believed.' 
I do believe" 

" I don't know as I have any thoughts ; 
I rest in Jesus, — that is all." 

June 27. — " The inexorable purpose of 
God has been to take me away now ; but 
he is doing it so gently. Oh, I ought to 
be very thankful. Yes, it is his inexora- 
ble purpose, notwithstanding the anguish, 
— the anguish, — the anguish of my 
prayers in Paris ! " 

"But how much better for you to go 
now, than to suffer longer here." 

" Oh, yes ! infinitely better. I am going 
to the city of glory, and I shall have the 
longer time to spend there, because I leave 
this world -so early." 

In the afternoon he asked a friend to 
read from the Sabbath Hymn Book. The 



218 MEMORIAL. 

seven hundred and ninety-second hymn 
was selected : — 

" Oh, mean may seem this house of clay, — 
Yet 't was the Lord's abode; 
Our feet may mourn this thorny way, — 
Yet here Immanuel trod. 

" This fleshly robe the Lord did wear; 
This watch the Lord did keep ; 
These burdens sore the Lord did bear; 
These tears the Lord did weep ! 

" Our very frailty brings us near 
Unto the Lord of heaven ; 
To every grief, to every tear, 
Such glory strange is given. 

" But not this fleshly robe alone 
Shall link us, Lord, to thee ; 
Nor always in the tear and groan 
Shall the dear kindred be. 

" We shall be reckoned for thine own 
Because thy heaven we share ; 
Because we sing around thy throne, 
And thy bright raiment wear." 

He listened intently to the end, and 
then said, " Beautiful — read it again." 
It was repeated, and afterwards a few 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 219 

lines were read from the seven hundred 
and sixty-first hymn : — 

11 And wilt thou now forsake me, Lord ? 
I feel it cannot be ; 
No earthly tongue can ever tell 
What thou hast been to me. 

" Through all the changing scenes of life, 
Thy love hath sheltered me; 
And wilt thou now forget thy child ? — 
I feel it cannot be." 

" Ah, that is for one who has been a 
faithful Christian through a long life. It 
will not do for me." 

It was replied, " Here is one I often read 
for myself, but I thought some other might 
be more appropriate for you now.'' 

"Jesus, the sinner's Friend, to thee, 
Lost and undone, for aid I flee ; 

Weary of earth, myself, and sin, 
Open thine arms and take me in. 

" Pity and save my ruined soul ; 
'Tis thou alone canst make me whole; 
Dark, till in me thine image shine. 
And lost I am, till thou art mine. 



220 MEMORIAL. 

" At last I own it cannot be 

That I should fit myself for thee; 
Here, then, to thee I all resign: 
Thine is the work, and only thine. 

" What can I say thy grace to move? 
Lord, I am sin, — but thou art love: 
I give up every plea beside, 
Lord, I am lost, — but thou hast died ! " * 

" Oh ! " he exclaimed, " how could you 
think that was not the one for me ? It is 
just the one." 

June 28. — "I am almost gone. Blessed, 
glorious Saviour ! Blessed, glorious God ! 
I have sweet peace. ' The glorious gos- 
pel of the blessed God!' 'We praise 
thee, we bless thee, we worship thee, we 
glorify thee, we give thanks to thee for thy 
great glory, O Lord God, heavenly King, 
God the Father Almighty.' " 

The prayer of the Saviour, in the seven- 
teenth chapter of John, was read to him. 

"Oh, how wonderful! Read again 
some of those last verses." 

* " Sabbath Hymn Rook," hymn 727. 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 221 

Then he said, " Please hold the book so 
that I can read them myself." 

In the afternoon, one who perceived that 
he was suffering more than usual, said, 
" There shall be no more pain." 

" I wish," he replied, " you would read 
me the whole of that chapter in the Rev- 
elation." A few verses only were read, 
lest he should become too weary. As the 
book was closed, he raised his cheek from 
his hand, upon which, as usual, it was 
resting, and said, earnestly, " Go on, go 
on : I want to hear the whole." He then 
wished to hear also the concluding chapter. 

It was said to him, " There will be a 
large family to welcome you to heaven, of 
our friends who have gone before us." 

" Oh, yes! that's true; but Jesus first of 
all, and the throne of God and of the 
Lamb." 

Some relatives from a distance came to 
see him. As they entered Ins room, he 



222 MEMORIAL. 

said : " Place their chairs so that they can 
see the trees from the window, while they 
sit beside me." He spoke to them of his 
sufferings on his return voyage, of the pre- 
ciousness of Christ to him now, and then 
exclaimed: " Oh, the throne of God and 
of the Lamb ! The most conspicuous ob- 
ject in that sublime city ! It will, I think, 
be the first that will meet our eyes on en- 
tering the heavenly gates." 

At another time he said : " The throne 
of God and of the Lamb ! My thoughts 
are more and more upon that; and I am 
persuaded that it will be so to the last." 

At evening a heavy thunder-shower 
came up. " Is that thunder ? " he asked, 
looking toward the window. " It is glori- 
ous, sublime ! " As the storm increased, 
his countenance brightened, and he said, 
enthusiastically : " Oh, is not this magnifi- 
cent ! "What an impression this gives one 
of the power of God! 'He thundereth 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 223 

marvellously with his voice.' ' The voice 
of Thy thunder was in the heavens.' 
1 The God of glory thundereth.' " 

June 29. — Mr. Little had passed a rest- 
less night, his mind often wandering. In 
the forenoon, Dr. Brown, of West Newton, 
came to see him. Mr. Little was sitting 
up in his favorite position, opposite to the 
window. Looking earnestly at Dr. Brown, 
he said, " Doctor, do you think I shall live 
through the month of July ? " 

" No. I do not think it possible/.' 

" Then I may go soon ? " 

" Yes, it would not be strange if you 
should." 

Turning his face again toward the win- 
dow, he said, " Come, Lord Jesus, come 
quickly ! " 

In the afternoon, he was seized with 
severe pains, and his whole frame was 
agitated. He passed his trembling hand 
over his forehead, his eyes were raised up- 



224 MEMORIAL. 

ward, his face became livid, and his voice 
changed to a hollow tone. M I cannot de- 
scribe it," he said. " It is a most peculiar 
distress. — This is the way Jesus went 
down, and we must all go the same way. 
But I rest in Jesus. I want C to un- 
derstand that. I am afraid I did not ex- 
press it to him clearly enough." 

Once during the day he expressed a 
wish as to the manner in which he should 
be dressed for his burial. With a look of 
surprise and sorrow, he said to the friend 
with whom he was conversing : u Why, — 
why should the mention of that call forth 
such a flood of tears ? " 

He had already spoken of the place of 
his interment, with a cheerfulness which 
seemed an answer to the prayer he had for 
years offered, that he might " dread the 
grave as little as his bed." 

" I wish," he said, " to be buried here." 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 225 

u You prefer, then, not to be taken to 
Castine, nor to West Newton ? " 

" Yes ; I do not wish to be carried any- 
where. The simplest way is the best." 

It was proposed to secure a lot in the 
cemetery of Forest Hills. 

" Yes," he replied ; " I wish that some 
of you would go and choose a place there." 

When this request had been complied 
with, he inquired, with interest, u How do 
you like the spot ? " and listened with 
evident pleasure to what was said of it 
and of the w^hole cemetery. The next 
morning, as a friend alluded to Abraham's 
purchase of a burying-place, — " The field 
and the cave that was therein, and all the 
trees that icere in the field, that were in all 
the borders round about, v^ere made sure 
unto Abraham for a possession," he an- 
swered with a beaming smile. 

One day he said, " I should like to see 
the place where I am to lie." 

15 



226 MEMORIAL. 

" Possibly you may be able to ride 
there ? " 

" No, I shall take but one more ride, — 
that is to my grave." 

Speaking of his funeral, he said, " I 
wish to have all as simple as possible." 

" You prefer not to have a sermon 
preached ? " 

u Sermon ? No, indeed! I suppose some 
one may wish to make a few remarks, 
but I don't want to have any sermon 
preached." 

" You would like to have singing? " 

" Yes, if it is sure to be good." 

" What hymns do you wish to have 
sung ? Perhaps you would have Baxter's, 
— ' Lord, it belongs not to my care.' " 

" No ; that is a difficult hymn to sing. 
I should like for one : — 

1 What sinners value I resign ; 
Lord, 't is enough that thou art mine.' 

That hymn on the whole transcends all 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 227 

others. It is for your sakes, dear ones, I 
am anxious that all should be pleasantly 
arranged. I shall be away." 

A few days afterward he alluded again 
to the hymn which he had chosen, and 
said : " I have concluded that I do not 
wish that hymn sung ; it is too jubilant. 
One more modest, less confident, will be 
more appropriate for me." He finally se- 
lected for the service the seven hundred 
and twenty-seventh and the three hundred 
and thirty-third hymns of the Sabbath 
Hymn Book. 

He spoke of the inscription for his tomb- 
stone : " You remember that last verse of 
my German hymn ; if I have any verse I 
should like that ; and if I have any passage 
of Scripture, I wish it may be, ' This is a 
faithful saying, and worthy of all accepta- 
tion, that Christ Jesus came into the world 
to save sinners ; of whom I am chief.' " 
We were reminded of words he had 



228 MEMORIAL. 

spoken before he entered the ministry: 
" When we are dying, I am sure the only 
thoughts that can refresh us to any good 
purpose will be those garnered up in that 
most evangelical announcement, — ' This 
is a faithful saying, and worthy of all ac- 
ceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the 
world to save sinners.' " 

June 30. — The name of a friend was 
mentioned. Mr. Little was asked if he 
wished to send a message to him. " Oh, 
yes ; give my love to him. Tell him to 
spare no pains to make himself acquainted 
with the truth of God in the gospel of his 
Son. It will be his refreshment when he 
comes to die. Tell him, especially, to 
cultivate a personal love for Jesus Christ ; 
and this is best done by meditating on his 
boundless love to us." This was spoken, 
as he now always spoke, with frequent 
pauses, and the peculiar emphasis which 
results from difficult respiration. Not un- 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 229 

frequently several moments would elapse 
before he could have breath to finish a 
sentence which he had commenced. His 
looks and tones gave so much expression 
to his words, that these, when written, 
seem hardly to retain the meaning he 
conveyed by them. 

" I have had an interesting course of 
thought with regard to my future. The 
principles of God's government must be 
the same in all worlds. If I love his 
government here, shall I not love it in 
eternity ? " 

" Our ideas on the employments of 
heaven are very crude. We do not know 
how it will be. You remember those lines 
of Baxter's : — 

' My knowledge of that life is small, — 

The eye of faith is dim : 
Butt is enough that Christ knows all, 
And I shall be with him.' " 

" You used to say that you would like 
to lead a choir in heaven.'' 



230 MEMORIAL. 

" So I should. You know that verse : — 

' Ah, then I have my heart's desire, 
When singing with the angels' choir, 
Among the ransomed of thy grace 
Forever I behold thy face ! ' 

Our Andover choir will be there too." * 

To one who was weeping, he said : 
" What do these tears mean ? I say to 
you as you have said to me, ' Let not 
your heart be troubled.' " 

" You will remember us when you are 
gone." 

" Yes, indeed. Why do you ask such 
a question ? " 

" But it will seem as if you were far 
away." 

" Oh, no ! You must not feel so. We 
have the same Saviour and the same 
home. Heaven is very near to earth, and 
it is our own fault if it does not always 
seem to be. You must prepare for your 

* See pp. 15, 96. 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 231 

own departure. The Word of God and 
the Spirit will do great things for you." 

u We shall think more of heaven, since 
you will be there." 

" Yes, you will ; and I advise you to 
make it a point to study all you can about 
heaven." 

This was a day of great suffering. In 
one paroxysm he prayed : " O Lord, my 
God, I pray thee, I beseech thee, help me 
to bear it. Help me, — help me ! Let 
this cup pass from me ; but nevertheless, 
— oh, help me in truth and sincerity to 
say, — ' nevertheless, not as I will, but as 
thou wilt/ " 

July 1. Sabbath. — He awoke at day- 
break, and said to a young friend, who had 
been with him during the night, " What 
day is this ? " 

" It is the Sabbath." 

" Beautiful, delightful Sabbath morn- 
ing! What a morning to die! C , 



232 MEMORIAL. 

I want you to make me a promise that 
you will read every Sabbath morning 
the twentieth chapter of John." After a 
few minutes he said : " No ; I will take 
that back. I do not wish to exact a prom- 
ise of you. But I w r ould recommend to 
you to read it." 

To one of his family he said, " Please 
read to me the resurrection chapter." 

"Do you wish to hear it so early?" 

" Oh, yes. You know Mary Magdalene 
came ' early, when it was yet dark, unto 
the sepulchre.' " 

At seven o'clock he said, " Bring me the 
Testament and Psalms, and hold it up be- 
fore me ; I wish to read in it." Feebly 
moving his hand, he turned over the leaves 
until he had found the eighth chapter of 
Romans. He read to himself a few mo- 
ments, and then, placing his finger upon 
the thirty-seventh verse, said, " Read from 
there through." 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 233 

" Nay, in all these things we are more 
than conquerors, through him that loved 
us. 

" For I am persuaded, that neither 
death, nor life, nor angels, nor principali- 
ties, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
things to come, 

" Nor height, nor depth, nor any other 
creature shall be able to separate us from 
the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus 
our Lord." 

He listened with deep attention, and 
then said, " That is the most precious 
passage in the whole book." 

Several times within a few days he had 
remarked that the Lord's Supper would 
be celebrated on this Sabbath, and had 
expressed the wish to partake of it once 
more. But now he said: " I do not think 
it will be best. I am so weak, — and I 
shall so soon drink the new wine." 

— " This is a beautiful Sabbath for wor- 
shipping God." 



234 MEMORIAL. 

" You have wished that you might be 
taken to heaven to-day." 

" Yes, it would be sweet to die on the 
Sabbath. But, 'not as I will.' "— " How 
God will loose the silver cord, I know not ; 
yet I am sure that he will give it all due 
care and attention." 

" Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently 
for him." 

Mr. Little responded at once, with great 
distinctness : " Commit thy way unto the 
Lord, trust also in him, and he shall bring 
it to pass." 

Once he was asked, " Do you still rest 
in Jesus ? " 

Raising his eyes, as if surprised at the 
question, he replied : " Constantly, that is 
all I can do now. He is my hope, and al- 
ways has been." 

At sunset he turned toward the window, 
and, his countenance expressing delight, 
said : " What a beautiful morning this is ! " 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 235 

u It is Sabbath evening." 

" Oh, yes ; my sun is almost set." With 
a significant smile he added, " I think I 
shall sleep ivell to-night." 

Soon he was nearly convulsed with dis- 
tress for breath. We went to him, but he 
motioned us away, saying, " More air, — 
more air, — I am dying now." 

The words were repeated, " When thou 
passest through the waters, I will be with 
thee" — 

" That's enough, — that' s enough. One 
passage is as much as a poor soul can 
carry over Jordan." 

At length he experienced relief, and 
said : " Is it possible I have not gone, after 
all?" 

The night was passed painfully. As the 
hours moved slowly on, he exclaimed : 
" If I could be released to-night ! " Once 
he said : " I have prayed my Saviour that 
he would not spare me a single pang 



236 MEMORIAL. 

which he sees needful, that I may glorify 
him. Oh for patience to wait ! " 

July 2. — He was reminded of the words 
of a relative, who said, the day before she 
died, " All will be well to-morrow." Mr. 
Little looked up quickly and said : " All is 
well to-day" 

At noon he suddenly awoke from a long 
sleep, and in a full tone, as if preaching, 
exclaimed : — " Crucified ! crucified ! — Oh, 
the most horrible death that could be 
thought of ! — so horrible that it ought 
never to be mentioned, as some writer has 
said. And that agony in the garden of 
Gethsemane. Oh, how inconceivably hein- 
ous a sin to neglect him after he has suf- 
fered so much for us ! " 

In the afternoon he was seized with a 
spasmodic distress which it seemed impos- 
sible that he should survive. As relief 
came once more, he said, with a voice and 
look of affecting entreaty : " Can it be 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 237 

that I am coming back again ? " — Oh, if 
the Lord does not take me away to-day, 
you must pray for me with all your might." 

July 3. — Mr. Little had become so 
much emaciated that it was not easy to 
lift him, or in any way to alter his position, 
without giving him pain. The friend un- 
der whose roof he w x as performed this 
kind office with carefulness and skill. 
" Dear uncle," he would say, " I thank 
you." "That was beautifully done;" — 
or, " This is the cup of cold water which 
shall not lose its reward." 

His manner was marked by a childlike 
simplicity and humility. The readiness 
with which he acceded to whatever was 
thought necessary seemed like the gentle 
submission of an infant. " Yes," he would 
say, " do as you please. You know best. 
I have no wisdom." 

He was as considerate of those around 
him as he was grateful for all that was 



238 MEMORIAL. 

done for himself. Very often during these 
last weeks, and even the day before his 
death, he expressed in a touching manner 
his fears lest his friends should be worn 
out with long-continued watchings. When 
told of the sufferings of one from whom he 
was receiving daily tokens of sympathy, 
he said : " I can only pray for her. May 
the Lord lift upon her the light of his 
countenance." Of a friend in affliction: 
" I wish you would treat her tenderly. 
She has a great deal to endure." To one 
who had attended upon him constantly: 
" For all your assiduous care of me by 
night and by day, I thank you. It has 
been most soothing to me. Yes, a 
very, very great comfort." 

July 4. — He asked to see his children, 
one at a time. With great tenderness he 
said to each what he wished her to re- 
member as his last words. After they had 
left the room, he was silent for a while, 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 239 

and then spoke : " Oh, if there is one direc- 
tion more important than another for a 
child, it is always to obey the first whis- 
per of conscience : when conscience says, 
This is the way, — to walk in it ; and 
when conscience says, That is the wrong 
way, — to avoid it." 

July 5. — He was in great distress. As 
attempts were made to relieve him, he ob- 
served with disappointment the return of 
warmth to his extremities, and entreated 
that nothing should be done to detain him. 

On awaking from a short slumber, he 
* said, " I asked that the angels might 
strengthen me — and I really — believe — 
they have." 

A friend came to watch with him. 

" Good-evening, C . I am still in the 

dying strife. Jesus has not yet taken me ; 
but he says : ' If I go away, I will come 
again, and receive you unto myself.' He 
will come and take me in due time. ' AH 



240 MEMORIAL. 

the days of my appointed time will I wait, 
till my change come.'" 

Jul// 6. — "I am afraid my faith and pa- 
tience will not hold out. Will you leave 
me alone for two or three minutes ? n On 
returning, those who had left the room 
found him in prayer, with his hands out- 
stretched and clasped, and his eyes in- 
tently gazing upwards. — " Oh, I beseech 
thee, great God, to strengthen me ; and if 
thou dost not suffer me to have the light 
of thy countenance, may I still trust in 
thee. O gracious God ! strengthen me, 
strengthen me ! Is it too much to ask that 
thou wouldst send thine angels to strength- 
en me ? Are they not all ministering 
spirits, sent forth to minister for them who 
shall be heirs of salvation ? Oh, give me pa- 
tience, submission, and fortitude and cour- 
age and heroism, to endure and to overcome. 
J think I have trusted in Thee. Let not my 
faith fail in this time of my extremity." 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 241 

July 8. Sabbath. — In the night, he had 
asked, " When it is light enough, will you 
read me the dear resurrection chapter ? " 
Soon after the dawn, it was said to him, 
" You are so weak that I will read but a 
few verses." 

"•Read to ' Touch me not.' " 

As the book was closed, he said, " Go 
on ; n and after hearing the words, ' Blessed 
are they that have not seen and yet have 
believed,' — " Now you may stop." 

When the first bells rang, he was asked 
if he heard them. 

" Yes ; they sound sweetly ; I always 
hear one bell that is far off beyond the 
others." 

" I think I hear it too." 

He shook his head and smiled. 

In the afternoon, as we stood silent at 
his bedside while he appeared to be very 
near death, he laid his hand upon his 
breast, saying : " Peace, — peace. ' Not 

16 



242 MEMORIAL. 

as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let 
not your heart be troubled, neither let it be 
afraid.' " 

After a brief repose, he said : " I have 
had a sweet Sabbath ; I have had such 
delightful views of the Saviour's love, and 
of the throne of God and the Lamb." 
Again, with a smile, " I have just seen the 
white robes." 

July 9. — " Come and sit down by me, 

W . I want to talk with you about 

the Saviour. You asked me if I could 
testify to his power to sustain. I have 
suffered a great deal, and can bear most 
abundant testimony to the comfort and 
support which he can give. I want you 
to cultivate more personal love to the Sa- 
viour. Think more of his love for us, 
especially in dying' for us. Think much 
of heaven. We miss it in not making 
ourselves more familiar with heaven. 
Read all you can about it. Some books 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 243 

of little value have been written on this 
subject, and some very excellent ones. 
Above all, read your Bible daily and sys- 
tematically." 

One of the family sat near him with the 
Bible in her hand. Mr. Little raised his 
eyes, saying, " Please read." 

" What shall I read ? " 

" What you have been reading to your- 
self." 

" ' But I would not have you to be igno- 
rant, brethren, concerning them which are 
asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others 
which have no hope. 

" 4 For if we believe that Jesus died and 
rose again, even so them also which sleep 
in Jesus will God bring with him.' " 

" Beautiful ! I wish now you would 
read to me that hymn, 

1 Thou dear Redeemer, dying Lamb, 
I love to hear of thee.' " 

After listening to it, he responded, " Oh, 



244 MEMORIAL. 

how beautiful ! I always used to like that 
hymn." 

To a deacon of the church in West 
Newton, he said: " I am almost home. I 
am so weak that all I can do is to rest in 
Jesus. — Christ is all. The anticipation of 
the joys and glory of the heavenly city is 
very precious to me, — very precious. I 
try to wait patiently until Jesus shall 
come and take me to himself. Remember 
me to all your family. Tell them to love 
Jesus more, to learn more of him, — to 
cling to him." 

To other friends from West Newton : 
" Christ is all my strength and support. 
He will support all who trust him and love 
him. — None but the eminent Christian 
will have ' an abundant entrance ' into the 
kingdom of God. I am persuaded of this. 
I am more and more convinced, that only 
the eminent Christian will have an ' abun- 
dant entrance.' n 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 245 

" You have already had a glimpse of 
Him who said, * Look unto me and be ye 
saved.' " 

With earnestness Mr. Little replied : 
" Yes, I have had many a glimpse of Him. 
The throne of God and of the Lamb is 
my strength and comfort. — We must 
trust in Christ, — we must trust him." 

After seeming to be asleep, he said, 
with a smile : " I have had some glimpses 
of glory such as I had in the first of my 
sickness/' And again, " Dear — precious 
— Saviour" 

Tidy 11. — Suddenly opening his eyes, 
he said in a strong voice : " I rejoice in 
God, and joy in the God of my salvation. 
I rejoice that the Lord God omnipotent 
reigneth. It must be dreadful to go into 
the next world without the certainty of a 
thorough acquiescence in God's govern- 
ment. I cannot think of it without a thrill 
of horror. It is the most fearful thing in 



246 MEMORIAL. 

the world. Oh, what can they do who 
come to this without God and Christ ? " 
He was overcome with emotion. 

" Do not be so grieved ; leave it with 
God." 

" Yes," he answered quietly, " leave it 
with God. He will do what is right in all 
such cases. He is infinitely more anxious 
to treat such persons with justice than we 
should be." 

As the physician examined his feeble 
pulse, Mr. Little inquired, " How do you 
find it, doctor ? " 

" I think it is no weaker than for several 
days past." 

Turning his head away sadly, the weary 
sufferer said : " I am sorry for that. How- 
ever, I have no choice about it." 

" One reason why you linger is because 
you are so calm. Many persons are 
alarmed in prospect of death, and their 
agitation hurries them out of the world." 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 247 

Mr. Little did not reply, but, as the doc- 
tor closed the door, turned to us with a 
look of distress, saying, " Poor creatures ! " 

In the latter part of the day it was said 
to him, " The time is short now." He 
replied: "I ask no questions. 'All the 
days of my appointed time will I wait.' 
I am eternally safe, for I love the character 
of God, I love his government; and I 
suppose that one who loves his govern- 
ment is safe anywhere. I know that I 
fear him, and ' the mercy of the Lord is 
from everlasting to everlasting upon them 
that fear him.' All the attributes of God 
are pledged to bless such. My sufferings 
are small compared with what many of 
God's people have endured, — nothing to 
what our Saviour endured. This is what 
you must all pass through." 

To a young relative he said : " I want 
you to love the Saviour more and know 
him better. I want you to study about 



248 MEMORIAL. 

him in the New Testament, and have him 
for your personal friend, and not let a day 
pass without a personal address to him." 

In a paroxysm of distress he prayed : 
" O God, I hope this glorifies thee ! It is 
all I ask. O Lamb of God, O Lamb of 
God, — slain from the foundation of the 
world ! " 

July 12. — A friend from Bangor came 
to see Mr. Little. When she approached 
and took his hand, he said not a word ; 
but, trembling with emotion, gazed upon 
her, as if he felt that in her were repre- 
sented the beloved people of his early 
ministry. In a letter written soon after his 
death she says : — 

" To receive his earnest greeting once 
was more than I had dared hope ; and 
then to hear his emphatic tones, when 
he had recalled his soul from its short 
wandering back to the world and its old 
affections, and had recovered from the 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 249 

agitation thus occasioned. You remem- 
ber, — do you not ? — and have treasured 
among his precious words, — I shall never 
forget it, — ' Christ and him crucified, 
Christ and him crucified, Christ and him 
crucified, is all my hope ! ' " 

Mr. Little's mind was now not unfre- 
quently disturbed by delirious fancies ; but 
in the midst of them there were pleasant 
tokens of the habit of his thoughts. " You 
know I have been following the Pilgrim 
family up the hill for some months.'' And 
again, " Come, let us go to the Celestial 
City. I will be Pilgrim, and you Chris- 
tiana, and w T e'll take the two little children 
and go." 

" But Christian went first." 

" Oh, yes ; that was the way ; but I will 
come and meet you, when you pass over 
the river." 

Once, when lying with his eyes shut, he 
was aroused, that he might take some 



250 MEMORIAL. 

nourishment. " Oh, why was it necessary 
to disturb me ? I was at Bethany." 

His attendants were often reminded of 
the hope he had expressed, that in his 
wanderings he should be " kept from say- 
ing anything which would dishonor God." 
Even in his insanity he was permitted " to 
show the power of the gospel to sustain." 
A few words from the Scriptures, or some- 
thing said to him of the Saviour, would 
almost always quiet his agitation. Once 
he awoke, sadly impressed with a dream 
that he had entered another world, and 
found himself alone in a desert. " But," 
it was said to him, " do you think the 
Lord Jesus has brought you thus far, to 
forsake you now ? " " No," he replied, 
"that cannot be : ' Because I live, ye shall 
live also.' " When a painful vision was 
dispelled, and he felt assured that it was 
not a reality, he would say, " I bless the 
Lord for that. ' Lord, now lettest thou 
thy servant depart in peace.' " 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 251 

Sometimes a few words of prayer gave 
affecting testimony to his childlike submis- 
sion and unwavering faith. — " Thou most 
high and mighty God, we do not know 
where the heavenly city is. If it please thee, 
Jesus, take us out of this dust in which we 
are lying. Nevertheless, not as I will, but 
as thou wilt." 

July 13. — In the forenoon, as he slept, 
his deathly countenance was most express- 
ive of solemnity, and sometimes of rever- 
ential awe. Occasionally his lips moved, 
and his face was lighted with a quickly 
passing smile. He awoke, saying, with a 
look of perplexity, " Have I not gone yet ? 
How my dreams do cheat me ! " 

As evening drew on, his aspect changed 
from moment to moment. While we 
intently watched him, he said, " Death 
takes hold of every part of me." 

" But Death has not the victory." 

" No. ' Thanks be to God, which giveth 



252 MEMORIAL. 

us the victory, through our Lord — Jesus 

— Christ.' " 

At an hour of great distress he gazed 
upon us imploringly, exclaiming, in pathet- 
ic tones, " You must not let me murmur, 

— oh, you must not let me murmur!" 
Then, more quietly, he said, " I am sacri- 
ficed to Jesus." 

July 15. Sabbath. — "I am too weak to 
hear the chapter this morning, but please 
read a few verses." 

The heavenly city was spoken of. "You 
know I have seen the throne of God and 
of the Lamb," he responded. 

When the bells rang, he said, with a 
smile, " Those are the first bells." 

Near the going down of the sun : " I 

think little M will not have her wish, 

that God would take me to heaven on the 
Sabbath. I am afraid I derive little edifi- 
cation from the Sabbath. I have very lit- 
tle connected religious thought. But He 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 253 

knoweth my frame, He remembereth that 
J am dust." 

July 18. — In the morning he was tran- 
quil. At noon there were again indica- 
tions that his release was near. — " The 
Lord has come for me now, hasn't he ? 
— ' Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.' " 
There were convulsive movements, and 
gaspings for the breath which seemed once 
to have quite passed away. But yet the 
spirit lingered. Supported in our arms, he 
looked up and said, " Repeat." The words 
were spoken, " Yea, though I walk through 
the valley of the shadow of death, I will 
fear no evil : for thou art with me ; thy rod 
and thy staff they comfort me/' To this 
and other passages he bowed his head in 
assent. When a little relieved, he said, " I 
glory in the cross of Christ, — I glory in 
the cross of Christ ! — that's certain." 

While we were endeavoring to make his 
position more tolerable, he looked earnestly 
at us, as if he wished to speak. 



254 MEMORIAL. 

"What is it?" 

" I have had such a sweet thought of the 
love of God and of Christ ; but I cannot 
explain it." 

July 19. — It is pleasant to remember 
the hours of this morning. Mr. Little's 
mind was clear, and his whole aspect ex- 
pressive of repose. At the same time, his 
animated countenance brought vividly to 
mind the bright look he had when in com- 
parative health. For a long time he ob- 
served our movements, listened to our con- 
versation, and regarded all with affection- 
ate looks, but did not speak. It was said 
to him, " You cannot talk with us, but it 
is delightful to see you look so happy." 
In tones full of meaning, he responded : 
" God has so wonderfully interposed in our 
behalf, during these last few weeks, — 
and so answered our prayers, — how can I 
help being — perfectly — happy ! " 

In the afternoon, the cold dews of death 
gathered upon his brow, and we knew that 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 255 

his departure was at hand. When the 
wanderings of his mind were suspended 
for a few moments, he said : " I rejoice to 
suffer for Jesus. I am glad the way is so 
long to the Celestial City." 

In the evening he said : " I am very 
comfortable. I love to look at you all. I 
have many kind friends. God is my 
friend." To one of his family who was 
obliged to leave him for a time : " May 
God keep you under his wings. May he 
save you and protect you. That is my 
prayer for you." 

Most of this night his reason was cloud- 
ed. He was eager to converse ; but his 
words could not often be understood. 
Once we heard distinctly : " Blessed Jesus ! 
— Precious Saviour ! — Thou art faithful 
even unto the end." It was said, " He is 
here with you." Laying his hand upon 
his breast, the dying one whispered, — 
" Perfectly satisfied" 



256 MEMORIAL. 

July 20. — In the early morning he 
looked upon those at his bedside as if he 
had never seen them. Gradually his rea- 
son returned, until he recognized us affec- 
tion ately, and gave a pleased assent to 
passages of Scripture which were repeated. 
Soon after seven o'clock his breathing be- 
came very laborious. His lips were pur- 
ple, cold, and rigid. With great effort he 
gave the last farewell to friends beside 
him. At times he raised his eyes, and his 
lips moved in prayer. He beckoned to us 
and made endeavors to speak ; but only a 
few words were intelligible. Once we dis- 
tinguished clearly : " Heart at home — 
heart at home. Heaven — part down here 
— part up there." 

" Is Jesus with you ? " 

« Yes." 

Averse from his favorite hymn was read : 

"And when my lips grow white and chill, 
Thy Spirit cry within me still, 



LAST WEEKS OF HIS LIFE. 257 

And help my soul thy heaven to rind 
When these poor eyes grow dark and blind/ 1 

He smiled feebly. Another verse was 
read : — 

" Renew this wasted flesh of mine, 
That like the sun it there may shine 
Among the angels pure and bright, — 
Yea, like thyself in glorious light." 

He shook his head, as if to disclaim an 
expression which he felt to be not in har- 
mony with a lowly spirit The last words 
he uttered were, " I shall soon be with 
Christ" 

His gaze became steadfast. He seemed 
no more to look at us, or to be conscious 
of our presence. We spoke his name ; 
but there w 7 as no response. We pressed 
his hand ; but the pressure was not re- 
turned. He breathed more and more gen- 
tly, until, with a long sigh, he fell asleep. 



fnuml mxmm. 

The funeral was on Monday afternoon, 
July 23. At two o'clock there were services 
at the house, after which the casket bearing 
the remains of the departed, and inscribed 
with the words so often upon his lips, — 
U I rest in Jesus," — was conveyed to the 
Vine Street Church. 

The first prayer was offered by Rev. Pro- 
fessor H. B. Smith, of New York. Rev. J. 
O. Means, pastor of the church, read from 
the Scriptures. Rev. A. C. Thompson, of 
the Eliot Church, addressed the assembly. 
The services were closed with prayer and 
the benediction by Rev. S. L. Caldwell, 
of Providence, R. I. 

The hymns sung had been selected by 

(258) 



FUNERAL SERVICES. 259 

Mr. Little for the occasion, from the Sab- 
bath Hymn Book. They were the follow- 
ing:— 

" Jesus, the sinner's friend, to thee, 
Lost and undone, for aid I flee ; 
Weary of earth, myself, and sin, 
Open thine arms and take me in. 

" Pity and save my ruined soul; 
'Tis thou alone canst make me whole; 
. Dark, till in me thine image shine, 
And lost I am, till thou art mine. 

" At last I own it cannot be 
That I should fit myself for thee : 
Here, then, to thee I all resign; 
Thine is the work, and only thine. 

" What can I say thy grace to move ? 
Lord, I am sin, — but thou art love : 
I give up every plea beside, 
Lord, I am lost, — but thou hast died ! n 



" Thou dear Redeemer, dying Lamb, 
I love to hear of thee ; 
No music 's like thy charming name, 
Nor half so sweet can be. 

" Oh, may I ever hear thy voice 
In mercy to me speak ; 
In thee, my Priest, will I rejoice, 
And thy salvation seek. 



260 MEMORIAL. 



u My Jesus shall be still my theme, 

While on this earth I stay ; 

I'll sing my Jesus' lovely name, 

When all things else decay. 

" When I appear in yonder cloud, 
With all his favored throng, 
Then will I sing more sweet, more loud, 
And Christ shall be my song." 



A company of sorrowing friends followed 
in the procession to Forest Hills Cemetery, 
u and beheld the sepulchre and how the 
body was laid." The casket was placed 
beside the grave, and opened once more. 
While we stood silent, the sunlight, partial- 
ly broken by shadows of the trees near by, 
shone upon the countenance of the dead. 
It was said afterwards, by one who looked 
upon the scene, " I could only think of 
Stephen, — we ' saw his face as it had been 
the face of angel. ' " 

The peaceful sleeper was laid to rest. 
Words of trust and hope were spoken by 
Rev. Mr. Means : — 



FUNERAL SERVICES. 261 

" In the name of the Father, and of the 
Son, and of the Holy Ghost, we commit 
the body of our dear brother to the ground ; 
earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, 
— in the assured hope of a glorious resurrec- 
tion and blessed immortality through the 
might of Jesus Christ our Lord, who hath 
declared, ' I am the resurrection and the 
life : he that believeth in me, though he 
were dead, yet shall he live : and whosoever 
liveth and believeth in me shall never die.' 

" We sorrow not even as others which 
have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus 
died and rose again, even so them also 
which sleep in Jesus will God bring with 
him. Wherefore comfort one another with 
these words. " 

And by Rev. G. M. Adams : — 

u Now is Christ risen from the dead, and 
become the first-fruits of them that slept. 
The hour is coming in the which all that 
are in the graves shall hear his voice, 
and shall come forth. For this corruptible 
must put on incorruption, and this mortal 



262 MEMORIAL. 

must put on immortality. Then shall be 
brought to pass the saying that is written, 
Death is swallowed up in victory. Thanks 
be to God, which giveth us the victory 
through our Lord Jesus Christ. 

" Grace be unto us, and peace, from 
Him which is, and which was, and which 
is to come ; and from the seven Spirits 
which are before his throne ; and from 
Jesus Christ, who is the Faithful Witness, 
and the First-begotten of the dead, and the 
Prince of the kings of the earth. Unto Him 
that loved us, and washed us from our sins 
in his own blood, and hath made us kings 
and priests unto God and his Father, to 
him be glory and dominion forever and 
ever. Amen." 



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